


Whatever It Takes

by Fodforever



Series: Whatever It Takes - The Series [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst and Feels, Armor Kink, Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, Blow Jobs, Bottom Steve Rogers, Bottom Tony Stark, Civil War Fix-It, Dom/sub Undertones, Dream Sex, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Sex, Endgame Fix-It, Fix-It, Hurt Tony Stark, Inexperienced Steve, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Mature Tony, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Orgasm Control, Orgasm Denial, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Reunited and It Feels So Good, Rutting, Seriously like 5000 words of shower sex, Shower Sex, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Switching, Thanos (Marvel) Dies, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Tony has a fancy shower, Top Steve Rogers, Top Tony Stark, Wet Dream
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-06-24
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:27:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 35,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24563821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fodforever/pseuds/Fodforever
Summary: After Siberia while on the run, Steve has haunting, explicit sex dreams about Tony. Running on no sleep, he is driven to take extreme measures (i.e. go talk to Tony about his feelings and everything Civil War just throws out the window).Civil War fix-it, which in turn fixes Endgame.The tags are spoiler-y, but it's probably not a secret that this has a happy ending. This is now part of a series!
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Series: Whatever It Takes - The Series [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1801996
Comments: 99
Kudos: 334





	1. To sleep, perchance to...

**Author's Note:**

> Check the tags, there's some Dom/Sub elements here. Nothing too crazy, and nothing officially negotiated. Just Steve letting go and letting Tony take control (in more ways than one), and vice versa.

Steve didn’t dream before. Sleep was always free and easy; maybe the only thing that ever was. 

He’d always figured it was his body trying to desperately conserve the little energy he had, but it was the one thing he liked about his pre-serum body. When he was out, he was out. 

Bucky tested him constantly in their youth to see what, if anything, could wake him. On the list of things that didn’t work: tickling his feet, an ice pop on the neck, loud noises like yelling/banging/clapping, shaking, nose-honking, hair pulling, and ear-flicking. Even the smell of his favorite stew… nothing.

Steve always woke up in his own time - Buck said he was just as stubborn asleep as he was awake. After the serum it was the same, he could just conk out and sleep through anything. It drove the Commandos nuts, but when he was needed he always seemed to wake up and jump into action. War has a lot more down-time than people seem to think; there’s a lot of waiting until there isn’t. So even then he’d gotten uninterrupted periods of rest. And if he had dreams, he never remembered them.

After Siberia, Steve dreams. 

He doesn’t understand why. Why now? The war, losing Bucky, going down into the ice and losing Peggy, New York, finding Bucky again, Sokovia… after each one, night after night he was able to escape into calm nothingness.

He didn’t need more than a few hours of sleep at a time after the serum, but he found if there wasn’t a dire reason to get up, he could easily sleep ten hours straight through. It helped. Sleep was always a respite, a way to recharge and refocus. 

After Siberia Steve starts waking up every few hours. It’s odd, but he doesn’t think much of it, he has a lot on his mind after all. The days pass and he finds it harder and harder to fall back asleep and stay asleep. And he starts to remember his dreams. He can’t get the images out of his head. Cold. Pain. Tony. 

Slowly the images become clearer, not just flashes but whole scenes, like memories. By the time they've been on the run for a month he’s dreaming every night for what seems like hours, even if he knows he’s only been able to sleep for a few minutes. 

Sleep is no longer an escape, so he tries to get by on the bare minimum. It’s bad enough that he can’t stop thinking about Tony and the whole situation during the day, but seeing his guilty conscience strung through this awful dreamscape night after night is slowly driving him insane. 

The team starts noticing. Sam keeps checking in with a knowing frown. Wanda especially seems to think she can help his restless sleep… and maybe he would let her do something, take a look at his shattered mind, if not for how the dreams always end.

Sometimes they aren’t about Siberia at all. It’s something from his past, or somewhere he’d never even seen before, but it always comes back to Tony. And not the Tony he remembers, or anything based in reality because oh god… Steve can barely think about it without flushing. These dreams about Tony are, for lack of a better term… explicit. 

Mortifying. Arousing. Torturous. 

His mind is betraying him, and he hates it. He tells himself he hates it. 

* * *

He tells himself he hates it, but if he’s being honest with himself he’s come to anticipate, even yearn for the dreams. Day after day it gets harder to run on less sleep, but every night he lays there as the anticipation builds like an unstoppable wave to its crescendo. At first he could get an hour of rest, then 45 minutes, then 30 before his dreams would jolt him awake, aching, harder than steel and gasping, visions of Tony burned behind his eyelids. Each night he wakes up suddenly and climaxes at the barest touch to the most intense orgasm he’s _ever_ had. That is, until the next night… 

Some nights he wakes up and he’s already spent himself in his sleep. Those nights are the worst; wiping up the result of his dream with none of the pleasure and twice the mess. Finding ways to clean and hide in close quarters adds a layer of shame and secrecy that’s becoming unbearable. 

God it’s all so unbearable.

It isn’t just the arousal and the lack of sleep. That he could deal with. He has been dealing with it. But _seeing_ Tony every night, knowing that in the morning he won’t be there. He hasn’t called. Will probably never call. 

The sick shame of getting off to someone he knows hates him. Must hate him after all that’s happened. 

Finally after a week of less than an hour of sleep a night, he can’t even remember why he thought anything was more important than Tony. Or no not Tony, the team… the team staying together. 

* * *

This latest dream isn’t all that different from the others. It starts with him in the middle of a dark, missy moor. It’s nighttime and he can’t see much through the fog though there’s a full moon. He can hear a hundred voices whispering through the mist. Telling him: 

_You betrayed your friends_

_You ran away_

_No matter what you do things will never be right again_

_You could have been a family_.

He looks up and sees Thor suddenly in front of him, looking somehow older, wiser.  
  
“Perhaps you were worthy once... Are you still?” he asks, before dropping his hammer in the muck at Steve’s feet.

Steve doesn’t want to try and lift it. He knows somehow in the dream he can’t. He doesn’t feel particularly worthy at the moment anyway, and knows trying will be pointless. 

He bends down to grasp the handle anyway. A normal hammer would slide easily in the loose mud, but of course it doesn’t budge. He can’t give up, and focuses everything on lifting it, bracing himself on his knees and pulling upward with all his might.

He yells with the effort, trying again and again, but nothing happens. When he looks up at Thor he’s gone, replaced by Tony in the armor. 

Surprised, he almost lets go of the hammer. Tony showing up means things are about to get much better and much worse. The armor doesn’t have the helmet and he can see Tony’s face clearly. Hear his natural voice. It cuts through the whispers of the bog drowning out everything else. 

“Keep your hands on the hammer.” He says easily, conversationally like he’s asking Steve to pass a slice of pizza.

Steve moves automatically to comply. Grip tightening.

Tony steps closer and cups Steve’s jaw with his gauntleted hand. “Ah _mon capitaine_ … always ready to lay down on the wire, even when it can be cut.”

Steve opens his mouth to protest, but a sleek red thumb slips inside. He closes his eyes and gently sucks, giving in to whatever is going to happen this time. Relaxing into being with Tony has become one of the only times he feels at peace lately. Might as well enjoy what he can before he wakes up.

He stopped trying to decode any sort of meaning in these dreams weeks ago. They all start with some riddle or mysterious mash-up of people, places and things, only to shift to Tony. Tony and him, and the rest falls away.

Tony keeps talking. That’s always realistic, the constant flow of Tony’s voice. 

“… it doesn’t have to be that way. You don’t always have to be the one taking on the world. You think it’s on you? It’s not. Allow someone else to take the burden, to be in control. You’ll feel so free, without its crushing pressure at your back...”

After what seems like just a moment and somehow many hours the thumb is removed and the gauntlet slips around the back of his head to cup the base of his skull. Tony moves closer, the groin of the suit only a few inches from Steve’s now wet mouth.

There’s a loud click and the groin plating disappears to reveal Tony’s hard cock, silently swaying inches from Steve’s now-empty mouth. Steve is pretty sure that isn’t something the armor does in real life (nor is Tony in the armor naked... he's 95% sure). He takes a moment to appreciate what’s been revealed. 

It’s always Steve's choice. The dreams are frustrating clear there. He could take his hands off Mjolnir, stand up, push Tony away. The hand on the back of is head is resting, supportive, but there’s no force. Anything that happens in the dreams is Steve’s choice, and he always choses Tony. 

Time becomes meaningless as he leans forward and takes Tony into his mouth, slowly working his way up and down the length, hands locked on the hammer. He gradually dips into what he’s termed “the floaty feeling” he often gets in these dreams.

Like he only has one thing to think about and it’s Tony and it’s perfect.

Tony makes small encouraging noises, a litany of soothing babble tumbles from his mouth as Steve works.

“Perfect, that’s right let it all go… you’re doing so well Steve, thank you, you’re mouth… so perfect… just for me, that’s right…”

Steve tunes it out and concentrates on what’s in front of him. Having his hands grounded on the hammer allows him to focus, but it also makes maneuvering the way he wants more difficult. Finding the right angle and the best leverage to take Tony in deeply starts to bring him out of the safe floaty feeling, so he gives up and moves off the shaft with a final suck in favor of slowly gliding his mouth and tongue against whatever’s closest.

Both gauntlets are on him now, framing his face and cradling his head as he slides his tongue down to the base of Tony’s erection and breaths deep, catching his breath. He moves lower and gently takes one testicle into his mouth, then the other. Tony seems content to let him slowly explore; occasionally he pauses to rest his head against the cool metal of Tony’s armored thigh.

“Sit up straight for me.” Tony says after one such interval.

Steve sits up and allows Tony’s hands to tilt his face up, so they’re making eye contact. Tony smiles a small smile, like he knows a secret, and brings the tip of his erection to Steve’s plaint mouth.

“Open up, that’s it.”

Steve expects to swallow the length again, but Tony keeps it shallow, just resting the head inside the tight seal of Steve’s lips like some obscene lollipop.  
  
“Stay just like that, you’re doing so well Steve.”

Steve lets out a small noise and focuses on staying completely still. One of Tony’s hands moves to cup the back of his head, while he moves to wrap the other gauntlet around his own length. Steve wishes briefly he could let go of the hammer and be the one to take Tony in hand, but is quickly distracted when Tony gives himself a gentle pump, stopping before his hand makes contact with Steve’s lips. 

Dream Tony is a decent size, but there isn’t much of him on either end of where he’s grasped himself. Just an inch or two of give as he pumps back and forth. Steve feels his blood pound as it occurs to him that Tony is going to milk himself into Steve’s mouth. His gauntleted fist continues to slide back and forth, back and forth, the way made easy by the copious amount of salvia Steve has left behind. 

Steve slips fully into the floaty feeling as he lets go, accepts that he’s just a nice warm place for Tony to come into. He’s there to accept whatever Tony gives him, he just has to be still and keep his mouth wrapped around Tony’s perfect cock and just be. Perfect.

“So good Steve, I’m close… when I tell you, I want you to suck as hard as you can. Can you do that for me?”

Steve hums in affirmation and grips the hammer harder than ever.

Tony strokes himself half a dozen more times, the anticipation building with each stroke, then says:

“Now Steve, suck me no—”

Steve wakes up.

He wakes up with a single unrelenting thought: that he needs to get to Tony. Then he comes all over himself while sucking on a corner of his pillow.

He has to get to Tony. He has to fix this somehow. Whatever it takes.

* * *

The next morning he calls a team meeting, and nobody seems surprised when he says he’s leaving. He’s not even sure he’s making sense, but at the end of his speech he closes with “… I’m sorry to leave you all. I hope you can understand. I just need to see him.”

Sam and the others gather around him, assuring him that he should do whatever he thinks is right. He’s pretty surprised they’re taking it so well, until someone, Lang maybe, says:  
  
“Of course you want to check on Bucky, we understand.”

Steve must be more sleep deprived than he thought. He’s pretty sure he didn’t say anything about Bucky. Just how important this was, and how he can’t focus on anything else until this is done… oh… he must not have mentioned Tony either.

A crazed laugh threatens to bubble up in his throat. He really should tell them he’s going to see Tony. He should. He’s learned his lesson about keeping secrets, lies of omission. 

But he doesn’t want to argue, and he doesn’t want anyone to try to stop him.

He settles on leaving a note for Sam where he knows he won’t see it until the next day. This is too important, Tony… the team is too important, and Steve can’t wait any longer. 

On the flight back to New York he manages eight full hours of sleep. He’s grateful when he wakes up, feeling better than he has in months… 

But he misses dreaming.


	2. Going Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve goes after Tony.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note – I have a soft spot for Avengers Tower, so in this version of things I have delayed the change over to the new Avengers facility/compound. Let’s hand-wave and agree that at the time of the accords/civil war, the transition to the upstate facility hadn’t happened yet (and thus the tower is Steve’s first option looking for Tony).

It’s almost midnight by the time he makes it to the tower. He looks up to see the Avenger's A is no longer positioned at the top… from what Clint told him he thought it might be gone, but he hoped it wouldn't be. It feels like the end, such a tangible symbol of the team they used to be, taken down like it was never there.

He pauses to note that the trademark STARK name isn’t there either, which means Clint’s intel was probably accurate. Just last week he heard Tony was planning to sell the building and move The Avengers (such as they were) to a compound upstate. Maybe he already did, and the tower is empty, sold off to the highest bidder.

Steve sighs and moves around the side of the building toward the nondescript foot-traffic entrance that was used exclusively by the Avengers when they couldn’t take a vehicle in or out of the tower. 

The facade of the building was designed so the entrance looks like it’s a part of the adjacent building. “Entrance” is probably too strong a word, Steve reflects. The door which isn’t easy to see in the first place reads more like some kind of storage, or maybe maintenance access. A blasé utility box hangs on the wall next to it. If anyone opened it up they would see a series of ancient-looking switches and couple of cracked dials which connect to nothing, perfecting the misdirection.

Steve lays his palm on the side of the box to be scanned and clears his throat to utter the last known password he has. 

“Cheeseburgers” 

He has the urge to roll his eyes, or laugh, but does neither. He’s too wound up.

After several moments the door doesn’t open. He didn’t think it would, but he thought maybe it would trip some alarm, trigger some notification. He waits but nothing happens.

Steve is about to turn to leave and regroup when there’s a distinct clicking noise, followed by quick a series of sliding bolts and minute beeps he’s only able to pick up because of his enhanced hearing. They mean the door is now unlocked, he’s in. He makes sure nobody is passing by in either direction and slips through, the door swings silently shut behind him. 

He makes his way through a familiar hallway which only has muted emergency lighting on the floor, the kind you’d see in an airplane. At the end of the hall is the elevator that connects directly to the Avenger’s levels, the executive Stark Industries floors, even Tony’s penthouse. The area around the elevator is lit more brightly and looks like it belongs in a four-star hotel. Steve always thought it was very Tony that a secret elevator that only the Avengers would see is still decked out with ornate trim, decorative lighting and sleek finishings. The way the hall and elevator are laid out there’s no chance of seeing any of it out on the street. It’s just fancy for the sake of it; it probably cost more than most people’s cars to decorate this secret entrance that hardly anyone will ever see.

Steve mentally compares this set-up to the system of secret knocks and restricted movement they’ve been using in their most recent hide-out/hovel and shakes his head. As he reaches out to place his palm on the elevator’s scanner Friday’s measured voice makes him pause.

“What are you doing here, Captain?”

It’s still strange not to hear Jarvis. 

His hand falls back to his side. Maybe he didn’t have access to the building after all. Maybe Friday is testing him, or let him get this far at Tony’s directive only to stop him here. He hopes Tony is actually in the tower. Steve knows he was in New York as of yesterday for a charity gala. Something promoting STEM for kids in low-income populations. 

“I…” Steve pauses in abject horror realizing that in his haste to get here, combined with his unplanned sleep on the plane he hasn’t actually prepared anything to say. 

“I just… need to talk to him. Is he here?” 

_Fuck_ . Steve thinks. _Did that sound entitled?_ Steve had vague plans of prostrating himself before Tony, doing or saying something so sincere that Tony wouldn’t have time to get his hackles up. Something to make him understand that Steve really, truly wants to fix things. But now he’s here, and all he’s said amounts to “yeah let me in, cause I wanna talk to him.”

His shoulders tense at their old dynamic (which is somehow happening after ten words between him and the air around the elevator). This thing that’s always existed between them where Tony seems to assume Steve is a self-righteous relic, and Steve jumps to Tony being too impulsive and self-interested. And they’re not wrong. But they’re not right, either. And getting stuck in those expectations is what got them here in the first place. 

Friday’s silence speaks volumes; he knows he has to say something else or he won’t even get past the ground floor. Panic wells up in him, his mind is blank. Even if Steve had some grand speech ready, now he can hardly speak, his throat closing up with a hundred emotions. So much pain and so much regret. _Fuck_. 

“Please” he finds himself saying. It comes out as a whisper. 

He looks up at where he thinks the camera probably is, swallowing, hoping to clear some of the tightness in his throat.

“Please.” He says again, louder this time, sounding exactly as broken as he feels. His cheeks burn and everything in him tries to reject this feeling. The feeling he’s fought against his whole life. 

That he’s weak, that he isn’t in charge, that he’s powerless.

His dreams come back to him, and the negative feelings he associates with being vulnerable subside. He’s relieved he doesn’t have to hide behind the Captain America persona. He always tried to reconcile the two; convince himself that Captain America is who he is even out of the uniform. But he’s only Steve, now. And he’s desperate, and he feels 100 fucking percent laid bare and he hopes it’s enough. He keeps looking up, refusing to back down, but not in defiance. It’s surrender. 

A few seconds pass and a soothing computer tone sounds. The elevator opens.

Friday declares his destination as the doors close.

“Going up - Penthouse.” 

* * *

Tony isn’t surprised. No, he’s had Friday tracking Steve and the others for months (shocker, Vision emits the same energy signature as the stone from Loki’s staff… what did Thor call it, the mind stone… because he _is_ the mind stone. And Vision has an adorable budding relationship with Wanda. So finding them, not hard). 

After he tracks Vision the first time, it’s easy to follow Wanda back to the others and digitally tail all of them with minimal effort. In truth they’ve been pretty boring. Steve booking a coach ticket across the Atlantic was a pretty big red flag, but it was his first significant movement in months. Tony figures Steve could be coming back to New York for a variety of reasons. It’s a big city, after all. Except, shortly after his plane touches down Friday reports that the nanobot-beacon on Steve indicates he’s making a beeline for the Tower. _The fuck._

As far as Tony knows nothing demonstrable has changed, for Steve or himself. So why is he coming here now?

Vain as it is, Tony spends almost the entire hour it takes Steve to get from La Guardia to the tower primping and trying on clothes like a 14-year-old getting ready for their first date. Well, if a fourteen-year-old also ranted and raved, liberally firing off expletives to their AI. 

“Friday, give Steve’s cab some extra-long red lights would you?”  
  
“Will do.”

He showers and checks his beard. Moisturizes. Puts on some deodorant, all while raging to the open air and Friday about all the things he’s mad about. Not just things Steve has said or done, the whole lot of it. The entire clusterfuck of the last four months. Hell, the last four years. 

He debates how crazy it would be for Steve to find him dressed to the nines in his best suit at midnight, by himself, in an empty tower.

Tony wants Steve to see him and feel regret, or envy, or some burning emotion he can’t articulate. He wants Steve to see him looking healthy and whole, the opposite of broken and bleeding with a shield jammed in his chest.

He wants Steve to see him. 

“He’s coming up to the Avengers side-entrance Boss.”

Fuck. Tony hastily pulls on his most comfortable loungewear. It’s loungewear, so he knows it makes him look comfortable and like he doesn’t give a shit, but in a “billionaire who can afford $20,000 fuck-you loungewear” kind of way. Plus he’s pretty sure whatever is about to happen with Steve is going to suck some hulk-sized balls, so he might as well be as comfortable as humanly possible. 

He paces as he watches Steve on the floating viewscreen Friday’s thrown up for him. Steve’s head drops in resignation as the months-old password he tries at the entrance doesn’t work. 

Tony watches him wait until it looks like he’s about to leave.

“Open it up for him, Fri.” he says as he takes two fingertips to the display and spreads them apart, zooming in on Steve’s face. He feels like a voyeur, but the last time he saw Steve he was at a distinct disadvantage, outnumbered and caught off guard. He won’t let that happen again. Steve is on his turf, in his tower. And Tony is still feeling pissed about everything. 

He feels petty and angry and wants to punish Steve. Drag him down low to where Tony’s been these last months. Fuck, maybe he shouldn’t even see Steve face to face. Maybe he should leave him down there to rot.

It’s not that Tony hasn’t taken the time to reflect on Siberia, the accords, everything. He’s done more than think about it, he’s taken it apart and put it back together. Dissected it, run the whole thing through B.A.R.F. more times than he wants to count.

And he’s come out the other side… still pissed. He gets that Bucky was brainwashed. That was probably the easiest thing to move on from. He gets that Steve didn’t want evil government overlords babysitting them. With the benefit of time and hindsight, Tony understands Steve’s side as much as he can, but there’s one thing he can’t get over.

“Head’s up, he’s at the elevator.” 

Damn it. Tony has been staring blankly at the screen lost in thought. He addresses Friday and refocuses on the floating display. “Ask him why he’s here.”

The resolution is crisp, the sound clear. He watches Steve pause, and the look on his face causes Tony to snort a laugh. God, he almost looks confused. Does Steve even _know_ why he’s come?

“I just… I need to talk to him. Is he here?”

To Tony it sounds like a petulant _Can Tony come out and play?_ His temple throbs as he considers that Steve probably hasn’t been half as tortured these past months as he has. Maybe he’s been sitting in his little hide-outs, surrounded by his like-minded cronies bemoaning how long it’s taking selfish Tony to come around to his point of view. 

He almost swipes the screen away and tells Friday to tell Steve he isn't here.

“Please.” It’s quiet but comes through the sound system clearly.

Tony zooms in closer on Steve’s face, which is now looking directly up at the camera. 

“Please.” 

Oh. Okay, Tony can see that Steve isn’t here to play around. He’s… god he looks like he’s gone about 100 rounds in B.A.R.F.

“Up to the penthouse, Fri. Give me at least 90 seconds.”

Tony dismisses the screen, grabs himself a bottle of water and leans against the bar where he can see the elevator clearly. 

He takes a deep breath, “Friday, record and observe but don’t chime in or interfere. If I need assistance or want a blackout, the usual voice commands are active.”

“Yes Boss. Good luck.” 

* * *

Steve tries not to collapse against the back wall of the elevator in relief, aware that he’s probably being watched by Friday, or Tony. Probably both. He still doesn’t have a plan, other than some general idea about proving to Tony that they can come back from this. The ride is short and he feels the air metaphorically suck out of the elevator as the doors open.

He steps out and hovers just inside the room. He realizes he’s never actually been up here. Even when he lived in the tower, he only spent time in his suite and on the communal floors. The Penthouse always felt like Tony and Pepper’s private space.

Oh god Pepper, he’s been sleeping with Tony in his dreams for months and never gave her a second thought. He flushes with embarrassment, eyes darting around to see if there’s any trace of her in the open floorplan. 

His eyes widen in panic as a thought occurs to him - Jesus, what if she’s _here right now_?

His eyes land on Tony leaning against the bar; he looks at ease, he looks _good_. 

Tony clears his throat and speaks in his usual rushed, cavalier tone: “Hey, long-time-no-see, drink? I’ve got water, Fanta.” He’s holding a bottle of water up, his posture relaxed and confident. 

Steve’s tongue feels like it’s glued to the roof of his mouth. He just shakes his head about the drink and takes a single step into the room.

Tony makes a small shrugging motion and propels himself off the bar, moving toward Steve. Once he reaches him they’re standing a few paces apart (basically still in front of the elevator because Steve appears to be rooted to that spot), Tony spreads his arms out to his sides and raises his eyebrows.

It’s a universal “what now?” gesture, and Steve still doesn’t know, but he can’t keep standing around like a mannequin.

Steve rubs the back of his neck to do something with his hands. “I don’t know what to say. I know that’s stupid… I’ve been thinking about what I want to say to you for months. I’ve wanted to see you, talk to you.” 

His hands move up to press over his eyes and then back through his hair. What’s wrong with him? Saying the right thing used to just come to him. He casts around helplessly and looks out the window. “The A is gone. Off the tower…” 

Tony sucks the side of his cheek into his mouth, the look on his face inscrutable. “Yep, out with the old, in with the new. The tower’s for sale, fresh on the market. Got a sweet little place in the works upstate.” 

Steve gets distracted by the taught line of Tony’s jaw. He wants to bite it. Oh god. Shit, he knew his dreams had started bleeding into his waking thoughts, but… Jesus, he needs to focus. Was he always this attracted to Tony? Maybe. 

Steve steps forward, one hand out. Enough thinking about what to say, he’ll just... tell the truth. 

“I can’t sleep. I – for months, I haven’t been able to. I don’t know how you’ve been, I hope you’ve been okay.” Steve shakes his head, this isn’t what he wants to say.

“The truth is Tony… the truth is that I don’t regret saving Bucky. And I don’t think I was wrong about the accords… but I’m sorry-”

Yeah no, Tony doesn’t need to hear this.

“Thanks Steve, it’s great to hear that you regret nothing and that you’re right, as always. Good talk.” Tony begins to turn away. 

_No no no_.

But then he suddenly turns back toward Steve, like a bright, hot, vicious flame.

“ _Fuck_ your sorry and the _shitty American Airlines coach seat it flew in on_ , Steve.” Tony is breathing harshly, seemingly struggling to speak around his own rage. “You may not have noticed since you ran away, but everything, and I mean everything is _fucked_ . Everyone has split apart, your boyfriend murdered my parents, Rhodey “ain’t got no legs lieutenant Dan,” the world’s governments are a _biscuit_ away from declaring war on anyone stronger than a professional athlete, Jarvis is dead and my tower is empty. Speaking of empty, Pepper left by the way." Tony motions to the spartan, empty penthouse.

"Yeah apparently having aliens and the villains of the world try and kill me was just the exact level of drama she could take. Me fighting Captain America and coming home with a concussion and bruised ribs from the _shield my dad made_ bisecting my chest was the breaking point. Everything. Is. Fucked.”

Tony is breathing hard and can’t look at Steve anymore. Fuck he really thought he was over most of this shit. 

Steve’s mind is on fire, he didn’t get out what he wanted to say and now Tony is doing the exact thing he was hoping to stave off. His heart aches, realizing all the pain and fear he’s felt over the last few months probably pales in comparison to what Tony has been dealing with. Tony is about to shut down, or worse, make him leave. He has to do something.

Steve kneels.

His body does it before he can consciously think to move his muscles.

He’s down on his knees, and it feels right, familiar. That last dream…

He swallows, hoping to jar Tony out of his rage with his own abasement. He’s not thinking anymore, just acting on instinct.

Instinct that has been informed by months of dreams where Tony fucks him within an inch of his life. So. Maybe not the most sane move. 

Tony for his part seems… confused. Which is better than enraged. Steve breaths deep and draws up the courage to look at Tony. Steve places his palms loosely on his thighs and sits back on his heels, beginning again.

“I know. I _know_ . I didn’t mean to lead with what I _don’t_ regret." Steve pauses, eyes bright. This is his only chance. "I don’t know if there is anything I can say; I should have tried harder. You don’t… god I don’t know how to say this without sounding like a sanctimonious asshole…” 

Tony barks a surprised laugh, and takes a moment to rake his eyes over Steve before throwing his hands out in a “carry on” motion… 

Steve clenches his fists where they rest on his thighs. He never talks about it. He didn’t think he would now, but it’s part of it he thinks.

Part of why he always has to _try_.

“I only saw one camp, in ‘45. We were in the right place at the right time to help with the liberation. Most of what the Commandos and I did was focused on Hydra. And those bases were bad. Human experiments, weapons. But the camp, Tony... _the kids_ … “ Steve’s voice falters and he pauses, head bowed. 

“And when I woke up it felt like people never even knew, never learned. Sure, it’s there in the history books. I think people cover it for about a week in grade school now… but they don’t see… they weren’t _there_ to see.”

Steve looks up, hoping what he’s saying makes a difference. Hoping Tony can finally understand him.

“I woke up from the ice and they didn’t remember or care to remember what people are capable of. I thought SHIELD did, I thought there was a way for us to move forward... But then it turned out SHIELD was a lie too... I've read about the last 70 years I missed in black and white, and it‘s there over and over again. When you give an inch, when you lay down at the beginning because it’s easier, we all lose. I couldn’t do it. It’s not some terrible alien threat I’m worried about. Its people. Regular people, governments, our own team members standing by and doing nothing.”

Tony rubs a hand over his mouth. Jesus, Steve liberated a concentration camp, and it kind of shaped his world-view... What can he say to that? So he says nothing. 

Steve goes on, clear-eyed and sure. “I can’t regret taking a stand, Tony. It’s who I am. But I know what I did wrong, what I _do_ regret. And that’s that I didn’t trust you. Not people. Not the world’s governments. I thought I trusted you, but when it mattered I let you down. I should have trusted you with the truth. I should have trusted that you would never really let anyone take away our ability to protect people.”

Steve’s voice is thick with emotion “I should have listened. I was too stubborn, so concerned with not moving an inch that I didn’t see if I just met you halfway, we could solve it together. Cut the wire."

Steve holds Tony's gaze, fierce and sincere. "You have to know that I’m here now, with you. Whatever it takes.”

The memory of his dream is crashing back over him like a wave. He's done it. Let go, given everything he has to Tony, and god if it didn’t feel harder than fighting him. 

No not harder, but like it... took more strength. 

He stays on his knees. He should feel embarrassed, should scramble to get up. But he doesn’t want to. He won’t until Tony tells him to. 

He looks up at Tony and waits. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter things are about to get way more smutty.


	3. Going Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve works to make his dream a reality.

The moment Steve kneels, Tony’s brain shorts out.

Okay, right. Captain America has come to his tower in the middle of the night, and gotten down on his knees to explain himself. What is his life that this moment isn’t the most surreal thing that’s ever happened to him?

Tony forces himself to listen to what Steve is saying, even though, again, _Steve on his knees_ is a thing he’s looking at. Steve probably doesn’t even know about the… implication of his actions. People probably got down on their knees a ton back in the day. That was a praying thing, right? Steve is probably just doing some old-y time-y penance thing that is in no way sexual. Focus. Steve is saying a lot of important shit.

Luckily, his brain takes notes even when he’s distracted. He plays back everything Steve said, closing his eyes for a moment to focus on the words.

Tony is floored. Steve has just laid out exactly what he’s been wanting to hear all this time. Is he dreaming? Well no, if this were a dream he probably would’ve left out the horrifying trip down holocaust memory lane… but, yeah, wow. 

Ah, and there’s Steve, kneeling there, waiting, expecting _him_ to say something.

Tony can’t keep a bemused smile off his face. All the righteous rage he was holding onto so tightly a few minutes ago has burned away, and all that’s left is a small warm ember that feels terrifyingly like hope.

He speaks, his voice a bit wary, “Not exactly sure how I’m supposed to respond to all that, Cap.” 

Steve’s expression slides into a hesitant, beautiful smile in response to Tony’s gentle tenor and use of “Cap.” 

Tony takes a step forward and begins to pace. He presses on, ignoring the kneeling _thing_ because it’s super distracting and there is still a lot to figure out.

“Look, we can’t just snap our fingers and fix everything.”

Steve nods, his face falling.

“But yeah, I mean I’ve been working on a plan and if you’re serious about figuring things out together I think we can… figure it out, together." Tony continues to pace. "I’ve been working with my lawyers and some of the higher ups in Wakanda actually. They are masters of working around the red tape that world governments like to throw up, and they also have a lot of keen insights about wielding massive power in a world that isn’t really prepared for it. We’re drafting some really slick amendments to the accords and if we can get them to pass, it will basically be the best of both worlds. It will protect Wakanda from external interference and provide the Avengers and other select groups with autonomy. Real autonomy, but with a protective layer between us and anyone that wants to claim our super-powers gave them cancer or whatever bullshit arises next from our adoring public.” Tony throws up three screens to show the progress he’s made so far.

Steve looks at the screens in awe. “Tony… I can’t believe… well, no I can, because you’re you, but... just... thank you.” 

Tony isolates the screen titled “Exoneration Timeline” and says “Er so, I wasn’t planning on bringing this to you until it was more solid, and also I was pissed and kind of thought it was a pipe-dream? But maybe if you guys get on board early that will actually help build our case…”

Tony stops pacing and notices he’s managed to walk into Steve’s personal bubble. Steve who is still _kneeling on the ground_ in his penthouse in his too-tight t-shirt like some sort of wet dream. 

Yep, he needs to get Steve up off the ground now before he gets an embarrassing erection which his incredibly thin and expensive lounge pants won’t do anything to hide.

Steve shooting him a blinding smile while he looks up at him like Tony is his own personal Jesus isn’t helping either.

Tony clears his throat. “Okay also, is this” He waves a hand at Steve, “is this how apologies used to be done? Literal begging on the ground? Jesus, I mean thanks for the effort and all but it’s not necessary. And if we’re being honest, it feels like you’re apologizing, but also a _little_ bit like you’re offering to blow me? And I know you said “whatever it takes” but yeah, that’s probably not… what you meant... Oh my god please get up or I will keep rambling and it will only get dirtier…”

Tony is actually starting to blush, because of course his perverted mind can’t get off the submission/blowjob thing, and of course his fire hose of a mouth does nothing to keep those thoughts from just spilling out.

But Steve isn’t moving, or scoffing at Tony’s blatant impropriety. In fact he’s… uhh, he’s looking… at Tony’s crotch? 

There’s dead silence as Steve _continues to not get up off his knees_ , and Tony is pretty sure he’s having a stroke. Or Steve is. What is happening here?

Steve looks up from Tony’s groin and into his eyes with unnerving calm as he moves forward a little bit, managing to look like some kind of jungle cat. He’s close now, close enough that he could reach out and touch Tony...

Tony is completely speechless. He can’t remember that ever happening before. Oh yeah, except like five minutes ago when Steve dropped to his knees in the middle of their fight… 

Steve is flushed and his pupils are dilatated in that way he gets before he does something crazy and brave.

“Would you _want_ that?” he asks Tony, his voice rough. 

_Fuck, what? What the fuck?_

_No really what?_

* * *

“Would you _want_ that?”

Steve knows he’s being reckless. Selfish. It’s the same rush he used to get when he was a ninety-five-pound weakling picking fights with jerks twice his size. Sure it was about standing up to bullies, but it was also a little bit about the thrill, that hot rush of knowing he was doing something truly reckless.

He should be thinking of the team. He should be calmly going over Tony’s unification plan and thanking whatever powers that be that things have gone as well as they have tonight.

But… Steve always has to _try_.

He wouldn’t do this if he didn’t have anything to go on, but his strategic mind has pinged a few times throughout their conversation:

_Tony was tracking him and knew he was coming. And he smells like fresh aftershave and soap._

_Tony and Pepper are not together._

_Tony scathingly called Bucky his boyfriend._

_Tony’s eyes glazed over when he kneeled._

_And most importantly, Tony just “jokingly” suggested Steve was offering to blow him. So…_

So yeah, if you’d asked Steve before tonight what the chances were that Tony Stark was interested in him sexually, he would have thrown out a pretty low number. Not zero, because it’s on record that Tony is bi, and over the years he’s definitely made more comments about Steve’s ass than all the other Avengers combined… but no, Steve wouldn’t have ever had the stones to proposition him. 

Steve considers that sleep deprivation and dream conditioning may be playing a role here, but that doesn’t really feel like an explanation. It’s more that his dreams have been helping him work through some pretty heavy demons… he can’t deny that these dreams have been pushing him closer and closer to something. Something he didn’t allow himself to think about when he was actually around Tony day-to-day. Tony had Pepper, and Steve… Steve never truly let go of the past. Even with Sharron he’d been holding back. Part of him knowing whatever they had was just a nice placeholder because no matter what he did he would always be a man out of time.

But Tony feels different. He feels like he could be Steve’s home. His future.

He probably won’t get another opportunity, and he’ll be damned if he ever misses a chance at something this real again. 

Tony is sputtering and flailing his hands around, and Steve would find it adorable if it didn’t feel like the next few minutes were going to determine if he got everything he ever wanted, or returned to the team with his heart in a million pieces. 

“Fuck Steve, are you okay? Do you have a head injury? Is there a gas leak? Have you been exposed to heavy metals?? I’m – I’m not, what even… help me out here because I’m really lost. Last I knew you were very straight, and also more in the camp of 'leaving Tony in Siberia is not something I regret.'”

Steve swallows and realizes maybe he hasn’t exactly said everything he needed to say yet.

“Tony, leaving you in Siberia was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. I never wanted to fight you, and hurting you… I know I can never take that back. Siberia was entirely about protecting Bucky, you know that right? If it was anything else I would have rathered it was me there on the ground left behind.” 

Steve takes a moment to let those words sink in and continues. “And as for this” he motions to himself kneeling, “and this” he motions between himself and Tony, “are you telling me that it never occurred to you that part of the reason we used to butt heads so often is the ocean of sexual tension between us?”

Tony rubs his temples and then drags his hands down his face, letting out a strangled groan.  
  
“Steve. Stevie. Stevia, my sweet, precious all-American beefcake… you are literal physical perfection. You have sexual tension with a tea kettle. But no, I have actually never gotten any signals from you that you were in any way interested. Ever. Which makes me feel like this” Tony makes the same motion between the two of them that Steve just did, “this 'you on your knees offering to felatiate me'-thing, is coming from a bit out of left field. Which is why I’m _pretty_ sure you have suffered a blow to the head, or are brainwashed, or god, maybe you actually think that I’m _that_ level of asshole that would require some sort of sexual favor in return for what I’m trying to do to bring the team back together…”

“Tony, no.” Steve’s hands come up, god he wants to grab ahold of Tony’s hips and pull him in. He wants to rub his face over those soft-looking pants and reassure Tony that the only thing he wants, is Tony. 

“I don’t think that. And I’m not crazy or hurt or anything like that. I think I’ve just… had a lot of time to think lately, about you. About who you are and what you mean to me. And all that thinking led me here.” 

Fuck maybe he misread everything. 

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, and I know the timing of this is really shitty… say the word and we can pretend this never happened. Tell me no, and I’ll still be here to bring the team home and support you any way I can.”

Tony narrows his eyes. “Friday, scan Steve for any foreign materials, check his brainwaves and do a full wellness check.”

Steve huffs, “Tony for Pete’s sake…” 

But he holds still as a green beam of light scans over his head for several long seconds and then down his body.

“All clear Boss, do you want to gather a hair sample for further drug or DNA analysis?” 

Steve can see Tony is actually considering it, so given that this all seems to be Tony getting Steve’s consent beyond a reasonable doubt, he decides to play a little dirty. He licks his lips and carefully slides his hands over Tony’s hips to hold himself steady as he leans forward, tilting his head back and to the side.

“Take whatever you need, Tony.” 

He means it. Tony can test one of his hairs if he wants. But he also means it literally; he wants Tony to take whatever he needs from him. Take him. He’s pretty sure he can’t be clearer. 

Tony’s nostrils flare and he reaches out to grab a fist full of hair at the base of Steve’s head and pulls him forward.

“Friday, complete blackout, keyed to my usual code.” 

Tony pulls on the hair back harder toward the floor, causing Steve’s chin to tilt up. Tony catches his eye with a look so intense that Steve questions for a moment if any of this has been real because it feels like a dream come to life.

“Show me what you got, Cap.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This thing keeps growing and growing haha. I thought it would be 4 chapters but now it's probably at least 6. Thanks to everyone who is taking the time to read!
> 
> This is the longest thing I've written in a long time, please let me know if anything is unclear or rushed 😁


	4. Something This Real

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Tony work through some things. The penthouse has a rug that really ties the room together... Yeah let's be honest this chapter is just porn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seriously... This is just a ton of smut. Like, is there a rating past Explicit? Mild warning - more D/S stuff ahead.

“Show me what you got, Cap.” 

Steve’s heart leaps, he can't believe this is actually happening after months of dreaming. After years of knowing Tony, and almost losing him...

He slides forward to rest his forehead on Tony’s lower abdomen, his nose brushing the top edge of his drawstring pants. He huffs a breath of relief before sliding his hands, still on Tony’s hips, back and down a bit to firmly grasp the swell of his ass.

“Urnngg” 

A noise escapes Tony in response, as he lets go of his harsh grip on Steve’s hair in favor of placing one hand on his broad shoulder for balance as the other combs gently through Steve’s hair along his crown. 

Steve presses his face deeper, breathing in. Tony smells amazing, a clean fresh scent mixed with a distinct aroma that’s naturally his. Steve is already zoned out, totally overwhelmed by the smell and feel of him. He spreads his knees a bit further apart so that his face lowers below the waistband and down to his goal.

Tony is half hard and getting harder by the second. Steve can only shut his eyes and press and rub against his arousal, pulling him as close as possible, his large hands gripping the entirety of Tony’s ass, almost lifting him off the ground in his haste to get closer, soak him in. 

“Fuuuuuuuck, Steve, yeah, move me around however you want.”

It’s enough to make Steve pause. Dream-Tony was always commanding, very in control. The idea that Steve can do whatever he wants with Tony is a bit overwhelming. He moves off Tony a bit so he can look up at him, bringing his hands around to the silken strings that keep his insanely soft pants up. 

“What do you want, Tony?” he asks, slowly undoing the string, hoping to prompt him. Steve has so many dream-memories in his head, they almost feel like past experiences. _Almost_ like experience, which takes away the jitters of this being his first time with Tony (or with any man for that matter), but… he can’t help but feel that Tony should be telling him what to do.

Drawstring undone, his thumbs slide down and out beneath the top edge of Tony’s pants, dipping them down just enough to expose a strip of tan skin and smattering of dark hair. He wants to give Tony control; he wants to tell him how good he wants to be for him. 

So he does.

“I just want to be good for you. Tell me what you want.”

It’s like he’s lit a fuse and Tony is off, telling him everything he wants, the words tumbling from his mouth like a waterfall. 

“ _Good for me_ … I’m officially dreaming. Okay dream-Steve, here’s what I want. I want you naked, like, yesterday. I want you rutting on your knees for me until you get rug burns from my Isfahan rug. I want you to take me as deep as you can down your throat, get me right to the edge, and then back off. I want to slap your beautiful face with my hard cock until you're begging to have it back in your mouth, I want you to choke on my cum and I want to taste myself on your pretty lips before I fuck your mouth with my tongue the way my cock just did moments before...”

Steve’s mind is overrun with the barrage of imagery. 

Tony continues without pause. “I want everything from you Steve, all of you, I want to take you in ways you’ve never imagined, I want you to scream my name until your throat is horse, I want to bruise you, I want you to bruise me, I want to use you until your whole world narrows to just me, just us. Is that what you want, Steve?” 

Steve is sucking in desperate gulps of air, overwhelmed by the path Tony has laid out before them.

“Steve, is that what you want?”

Steve nods enthusiastically, feeling the full weight of how much more intense this is than any dream.

“I need words, Captain.” Tony’s voice is teasing, but there’s an undercurrent of gravity. 

“Yes, Tony, yes” Steve gets out. He feels like he’s floating. He’s finally here. He’s with Tony and Tony is going to take care of him. 

“God, look at you” says Tony, as he cups Steve’s face with one hand, the other still on Steve’s shoulder. 

Steve rubs his cheek against Tony's palm and moves to pull at the too-soft pants, anxious to make Tony’s plan a reality.

But Tony pulls his hands away before he can move the pants down even a few inches.

“Ah-ah, what did I say I wanted Steve?” his voice is warm, but firm.

Steve shuts his eyes and takes a deep breath, calming his racing heartbeat and trying to focus. 

“You want me naked” Steve says. 

“That’s right” Tony smiles. “You have to follow the Order of Operations or the whole equation falls apart. Now, can you get naked for me?" 

Steve nods, before remembering to say “Yes, Tony” and takes off his shirt.

* * *

Tony watches as Steve strips down, quickly and without fanfare. Hmm, maybe they can work on that later. Though there is something to be said about efficiency. They probably have a lot to work on… Steve is eager as they come, but he's also literally begging to be told what to do.

And Tony has no problem with that, far from it, but he also doesn’t want to create a one-sided dynamic. He’s already older, and definitely way more experienced than Steve. If this is more than a one-night thing for Steve (and Tony is guessing it is, because it’s Steve), there’s a lot to navigate. And they already have a shit-ton of baggage to work through totally separate from sex. 

Tony wants this, more than he can fathom given he’s only just been made aware it’s possible. 

He wants this thing with Steve to thrive, and if he’s learned anything he knows that means they need to balance each other. They need to have give and take. Challenge each other, give in to one another.

Tony thought he’d found that with Pepper, but it turned out he took more than she could give in the end. Or maybe he gave more than she could take… But the beauty of what he had with Pepper, he’s realizing now, is that it made him grow the fuck up. For once he doesn’t feel like he’s at a loss for how to do this. He can see the infinite ways he could fuck this thing up with Steve, but that glowing ember in his chest is strong, ready. He sees the pitfalls and he is thinking ten steps ahead about how to avoid them. 

He refuses to lose something this real again. 

Steve pulls off his second boot and sock, then his pants and his briefs in one swift movement, tossing it all to the side towards the elevator. Impatient. 

Tony briefly wishes he was twenty years younger. Though twenty years ago he would probably have been equally impatient, and all this would be over in about six minutes. 

Steve slides back to his knees in front of him with impossible grace, and Tony takes a minute to just look at him. 

_Goddamn._

He takes Steve’s face in his hands and presses their lips together, short and sweet. “Thank you Steve, you’re doing so well.” 

Tony keeps his hands resting lightly on the sides of Steve’s face and neck. “Go ahead and take me out, but don’t pull my pants all the way down, you’re going to want them there in a minute.” 

Steve looks mildly confused but not concerned, and follows Tony’s directions, pulling the pants down a few more inches, just enough to allow Tony’s cock to spring out, heavy and flushed. Steve licks his lips, looking up to Tony to see if he has any further instruction.

“As deep as you can now, but don’t rush. Work up to it slowly, be sure to relax your throat and breath. Take your time Steve."

Tony pauses considering what Steve has said so far. What he needs to hear.

"Show me how good you can be.” 

Steve shudders and gratefully does as instructed. Once again, his dreams have stoked his desire for what he’s doing, but the actual mechanics of it feel unfamiliar. He starts with just the head, getting used to the feel of it in his mouth, swiping at it with his tongue, slowly moving down a little and then back up. Then a little further, working out how to find a rhythm and breath at the same time. Since the serum anything that requires physical aptitude seems to come to him like second nature, and he’s relieved when after a few minutes he’s able to bob up and down on Tony’s erection with ease, further testing what combinations of pressure, suction, swallowing and licking Tony seems to like the most. 

Once he’s truly deep-throating Tony, he feels a tap on his shoulder and he pulls off, giving Tony his full attention.

Tony is breathing fast and grinning, gorgeous.

“You – are unbelievably good at that.”

Steve feels his cheeks heat with pleasure. He think’s back to Tony’s monologue about what he wants, and his flush deepens. Tony wants him to... 

“Steve, you’re going to take me deep again, and get me close, but I’m not going to come yet. I’m also going to give you permission to get off if you want you to come. You don’t have to, but we’re going to have to do something about you leaking everywhere, okay?”

Tony's voice is kind, his expression a little amused as he gestures to Steve's hardness.

Steve looks down at his own erection and blushes from scalp to belly button. He’s leaking. A lot. It almost looks like he's already come he’s so wet. It’s starting to pool at the base of his cock and slide down. Oh god, he’s mortified. 

“Shh, shh, you’re okay Steve.” Tony smooths his hands over Steve’s neck and chest, chasing the blush. “It’s honestly super hot. Nothing wrong with getting into it, I bet it makes jerking off a dream… But the rug you're kneeling on? It cost over $350,000.” 

Steve blanches. 

“I know, I know. And honestly I don’t care, I would love nothing more than for you to come all over that thing like a Jackson Pollock painting, but it's arranged that movers will clear the penthouse out next week and the rug is being donated to some museum… It’ll be a whole thing.” 

What he doesn’t say is that Pepper took a special interest in this rug, like hunted for it for months, flew to Milan to buy it at auction. She then heavily debated allowing it to be, well, a rug. Something about it being art, priceless, something that people shouldn't walk on… and although he is on okay terms with her given everything, he’s pretty sure she will literally rip his windpipe out of his neck if he lets so much as a drop of anything get on the rug. 

And, maybe it gives him a little thrill, this rug representing something about his past with Pepper, having Steve on it now blowing him… all stuff Steve doesn’t need to worry about… 

Luckily he has substantially less expensive and valuable loungewear available for Steve to rub himself off on right here. 

“Tony, what?” Steve clearly hasn’t connected the dots, and is looking increasingly desperate, side-eyeing his t-shirt crumpled on the ground next to the elevator.

“Steve, it’s okay, listen.” Steve relaxes and refocuses on Tony.

“You’re going to take me deep again, and while you do your going to be able to get some friction on that beautiful cock of yours. Wipe up that mess. You can come if you need to, or not, but either way we’re gonna take care of our little precum problem, okay?”

Steve nods, but still doesn’t seem to know where this is going.

Tony takes his jaw in hand and slides his length back into Steve’s mouth, while at the same time stepping closer, pressing his leg in a firm line against Steve from his lower thigh up to his abdomen. Steve's erection suddenly has a heady pressure against it. 

“There you go, just press right there, that’s it…”

Steve jolts, letting out a strangled moan. 

* * *

Steve is floating on a cloud of bliss until Tony tells him he’s about to leak bodily fluids onto a priceless rug. Realizing that he’s so worked up, so wet, that Tony has noticed, that’s mortifying enough, but to think he could ruin something like that… 

Hot humiliation rolls over him until Tony’s soothing voice assures him he’s okay. It’s hot even, he said… And then Tony is pressing himself into his mouth again and explaining where he’s supposed to come instead, slotting them together and encouraging Steve to rub up against his leg _like a dog_. 

He feels hot tears prick in his eyes as another massive wave of embarrassment comes on, almost too much to take...

But then Tony is pressing against him, sliding the silky soft material of his pant leg against Steve’s length. 

He groans uncontrollably. It feels so good. Oh god.

The pleasure from the silken pressure against his cock combined with the feeling of Tony heavy in his mouth and throat again sweeps away everything else. Why was he upset? His body acts of its own accord, gyrating in a fluid pattern, bending forward to take Tony into his mouth, then moving his mouth off and rolling his body down to press his groin roughly against Tony’s leg, then pulling his lower body away again to take Tony down to the root, again and again. Steve is reminded of an exotic belly dancer he saw once in a blue film Bucky dragged him along to. Fuck he’s about to come.

He pulls away.

Tony is breathing hard now, hands on both of Steve’s shoulders. Steve isn’t much better, he's catching his breath in a way he hasn’t needed to in he doesn't know how long. Physical activity doesn’t usually wind him, but this… 

Tony is talking now, mostly nonsense, but Steve makes out some of the words “Jesus… perfect, absolutely… couldn’t have asked for anything better, nothing… the best, most perfect, Steve oh my god… fucking perfect" 

A different kind of pleasure floods through Steve now, even the visual of Tony’s now damp leg doesn’t embarrass him the way it would have a few minutes ago. Because he’s perfect. 

Steve is so hard it hurts. He can’t tell if he wants to come or not. Tony said he could. He probably should. Since his dreams started, he’s found it difficult to come just once. Usually it takes two or three times for his body to finally calm down. 

He leans forward to take Tony in again, but a firm grip on his hair stops him. Tony’s holding as much of it as he can at the top-back of his head, where a woman might wear a ponytail. 

“You’re doing so well Steve. I’m so close, and it looks like you are too.” It’s not a question. “You can have my cock back in your mouth as soon as you want, but you’ll have to do more than ask okay? Do you remember what you need to do?”

“Beg” Steve promptly responds, voice rough.

“That’s right, beg. As soon as I’m back in your mouth, you’re allowed to use my leg to come. You can use the other one since this one is already wet okay?” He motions to his left leg, where the pant material is damp and dark, smeared with the evidence of Steve’s arousal. 

Steve blushes deeply down to his chest. It’s not like before though, he doesn’t feel ashamed… well, he does but Tony is there and he can tell he’s proud of him, so it’s like... a good shame? He’ll have to think on that more later, because it doesn’t really make any sense. 

Steve looks at Tony, whose hand is still holding Steve’s hair. His cock is just a few inches from Steve’s mouth.

“Tony, please may I have your cock?”

Tony tightens his grip on Steve’s hair and grasps the base of his own cock, turning to the side a bit at the same time before twisting back to slap it wetly across Steve’s cheek. 

Steve feels a spurt of precom run down his erection. Holy shit. 

After he takes a second to recover he realizes he's in trouble. This is going to take some strategy, because apparently getting gently slapped in the face by Tony’s cock is the hottest thing that’s ever happened to him, but he’s not allowed to rub himself off until he’s begged enough to get Tony’s cock in his mouth. 

He wants Tony to do it again. Harder. He wants to know how hard he can possibly hit him. He wishes he could drag this out, but there’s no way. If Tony hits him again like that, he's not going to last. And if he doesn’t get up against Tony’s leg soon he’s definitely going to drip on to the rug… that possibility fuels genuine panic within him, causing him to blurt:  
  
“Please, please, please Tony I’m begging you! If you don’t let me suck you and come on your leg I’m going to drip, I know it. I’m so close. Please even one more slap and I’ll come untouched, it's too good, please I don’t want to ruin the rug, please please _please_ ”

Instantly his mouth is full and he’s pressed against Tony’s warm, smooth leg. It’s euphoria. Steve has never been this desperate to come, not in any of the nights he’s woken up from his dreams, never. 

Tony takes over now, thrusting into Steve’s mouth and holding his leg fast against Steve’s erection. It’s a little more awkward than when Steve had full range of movement, more desperate, their bodies pressed tightly together as Tony thrusts, thrusts thrusts into Steve’s mouth, which is no more than a desperate “o” while he ruts feverishly against Tony’s leg. Steve loses himself totally, grasping the leg he’s humping with one hand to find better purchase and Tony’s ass with the other to force him harder, deeper into his mouth.

Steve comes. Everything whites out for what seems like minutes. He doesn't even feel like he's in his own body. Like there's so much pleasure coursing through him that there isn't any room for anything else... When he comes back to himself, Tony is coming into his mouth, down his throat at first, then pulling back so just the head is enclosed, flooding his mouth and coating his tongue. The last of it spills over onto his lips and chin. 

Tony is shaking above him as he pulls out and leans heavily onto Steve’s kneeling form. They stay like that for several minutes, just slowly breathing, Tony draped against Steve, letting his superior strength support him. 

Finally he leans back away from Steve enough to peel the soiled pants off his legs and carefully ball them up before tossing them toward the area of the bar. He goes back to Steve who is still kneeling and wraps his arms around his neck, sliding down to align their bodies until he can capture his mouth. 

Steve pulls Tony close, once again supporting his weight easily. They make out lazily until Tony's tongue starts setting an insistent rhythm against Steve's own. Diving over and over, seeking out any traces of his own taste.

Steve moans weakly as he realizes Tony is doing exactly what he said he'd do, fucking is mouth with his tongue. In response he sucks Tony's tongue into his mouth just like he did his cock, his own erection showing interest again, never having fully softened. 

Finally Tony pulls away, his mouth shiny and tender-looking. He sinks down the small distance from where he's clinging to Steve's neck and shoulders to rest on his knees, mirroring Steve's position. He lays his head against Steve's broad chest and brings his arms loosely around his lower back. 

"So," Tony says, "You're not straight, then."

Steve laughs, wrapping his arms around Tony. "No, I'm really not." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gah if this chapter was a 10 on the sex-o-meter, the next few turn it up to 11... Stay tuned eeeeee...


	5. The Shower Part 1 - Options

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Tony shower.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I thought this would be one chapter but it looks like the shower will last two, possibly three chapters. What is my life?

Tony just allows himself to zone out for a minute, resting his head on Steve’s chest, running his hands down his back as he listens to the steady beat of his heart. Of course, Steve’s heartrate has already normalized. Tony’s is still rabbiting all over the place. Jesus, what just happened?

The best sex of his life, is what. Which is really saying something because he dated Naomi Campbell for about a week in the 90s.

After a while he clears his throat. He’d like to stay here just like this, but his knees are already starting to complain (stupid fancy thin rug that isn’t even that soft). And although Steve has super-soldier knees, he’s been on them a lot longer and probably wouldn’t mind getting up.

Tony doesn’t want to have to jump into the long talk he knows they need to have… and it turns out he has the perfect distraction. Steve is hard again, or… still hard? Pressed up against Tony’s stomach. 

This calls for a shower. Tony loves shower sex. In fact, he loves showers in general. When he can afford the time he takes long ones, like epically long. Back in his party-boy 20s, he’d actually gotten a bit of a reputation for his shower orgies. Tony never cared for that term, is 4-5 people an orgy, really? It’s not like his shower is the size of a racquetball court or anything, 6 is really the maximum capacity. That’s just… an intimate group of people having a good time. 

Starting with his first penthouse he designed a custom shower from top to tail, and he’s installed a version of that same shower in almost all the properties he owns. They are totally custom, and he does all the programming and custom build-outs himself (minus like, masonry, that shits an art he pays people for). Sure the shower’s design has evolved a bit over the years, but his initial model was pretty close to perfection: modular, automated, cutting edge.

His shower has everything you could want, and a few things most people wouldn’t even dream of… yes he definitely needs to get Steve in the shower.

Unfortunately, Steve seems to have interpreted his throat-clearing a bit differently. Before Tony can launch his sexy shower plan, Steve starts talking:

“I really _am_ sorry, Tony. I know we’re on the same page now about fixing things, about the team needing to be together. But I do – I really do think you were right too. There’s going to be something one day, something we can’t even fathom, and there will be no way we can beat something like that and protect the planet unless we’re united. We all need each other… and I, I need you.”

Steve’s voice is shaking with emotion and he’s squeezing Tony tight, just shy of the point where it’s uncomfortable. He goes on, “God I hope I haven’t ruined anything. I hope you know what this means to me...” 

Red alert, the big complicated conversation appears to have started without him. 

Tony struggles against Steve’s hold, and wow yeah for a second he literally can’t move. He might as well be held in place by vibranium chains. It’s hard sometimes to keep in mind exactly how crazy-strong Steve is… Steve notices quickly that Tony is at least trying to move though and releases him immediately, face pulled into an apologetic grimace. 

Once free Tony slides his hands up to rest on the muscular area between Steve’s neck and shoulders. 

“Hey, hey, no nothing is ruined. It’s the opposite Steve.” He squeezes the muscles under his hands, trying to pry out the tension that’s amassed there. Hmm he should send Steve to his masseuse. Or maybe this is just how Steve’s shoulders are? So much muscle… Right, focus. “Look, I’m not going to pretend everything is solved. There’s gonna be a lot of work moving forward, as a team, and for you and me.” 

Steve smiles a little at the ‘you and me’ part. Christ, Tony really wanted more time before they did this…

“Steve, I want to figure this out with you. And we are _going_ _to_. But can I ask you for something before we dive back into everything?”

“Anything” says Steve. Oh Steve, you know not what you do.

“Can we go take a shower, maybe eat something, and then curl up in bed? Leave figuring out The Fate of the Avengers until the morning?”

Steve looks so wholly relieved that Tony almost does a little fist pump. Operation Shower is back on. “I think that sounds great Tony.”

“Great, shower it is! And while we’re in there, we can take care of this.” Tony rolls his hips and abs to press against Steve, drawing attention to Steve’s erection (which Steve had been sort of angling away from Tony’s body during the start of their aborted attempt at the long-serious-talk-that-can-definitely-wait). 

Steve’s cheeks go pink and he pulls away a bit more. “Oh, umm, no that’s not-“

_No. Why?_

“You don’t have to, I mean we don’t have to… you’ve already, and I can, um, that is… sometimes it can take more than once, or even more than twice… sorry…”

Steve trails off looking awkward. 

Um no, not on Tony’s watch.

“Steve, Steven. My turtledove. Please don’t ever apologize for _this_.” Tony slides a hand down between them and punctuates the last word with a firm squeeze of Steve’s cock. Steve’s nostrils flare and Tony can feel him pulse in his hand. Jesus.

“Yeah, no, you have _no_ idea how amazing my shower is, or how excited I am to get you in there.” 

Steve hums and seems willing enough, but Tony obviously isn’t getting his point across if Steve isn’t jumping up and bridal-carrying him at a run into the shower. 

Steve definitely likes when he talks. He just needs to paint him a picture. “There’s so much I want to do with you Steve. To you. I seriously can’t wait to get in there. To soap you up, to have you soap me up. Really take our time, touch you everywhere. I wanna open you up Steve, and take you apart. Show you how good it feels, to be in control, to take what you want...”

Tony emphasizes each sentence with a firm stroke. Ah there it is.

Steve looks totally blissed out. 

“I – um, yes, please let’s do all of that.” 

Finally. Tony leaps up and flings his shirt off, “Race you!”

* * *

Tony beats him to the shower, but only because by the time Steve has realized they are in a race, he also realizes he doesn’t know where the bathroom is, so he jumps following Tony close behind.

Tony only beats him by a handful of seconds, but he’s already fiddling with a read-out. Of course Tony’s shower has a computer in it. Someday Steve wants to take Tony camping. Get him in a tent in the woods with nothing that connects to the internet, or has a computer chip in it, or even runs on batteries.

It’ll probably never happen, but it’s a nice little dream. Cosy by the fire, maybe roast some marshmallows… a real dream about Tony, not what he’s had to cling to these last months. Him and Tony, together.

Steve is pulled out of his reverie when Tony literally pulls him into the open-air stall. It’s a big space, larger than one or even six people really need. There are about 10 nozzles and showerheads coming out from multiple directions, but they blend seamlessly with the design. Steve admires the aesthetic, though it’s a bit modern for his tastes. All sleek chrome and expensive-looking deep gray stone. 

Tony mutters a command that sounds like “Activate Blue 3” and the walls shift. Two handholds/bars emerge and a small platform about a meter square raises in the center of the shower up against the longest wall beneath them. The platform looks like a mini-stage, only 6 inches higher than the rest of the shower floor. Two waist-height columns also slide out of the walls on either side of the platform to reveal two sets of shelves. Steve glances over the shelves to see they are stocked with sponges, washcloths, soaps, little tubes and creams and… and in the bottom shelf of each column there’s a basket which appears to be full of a variety of _dildos_ , and things Steve doesn’t recognize but can guess at what they are used for...

Steve is so out of his depth he feels the urge to drop to his knees again. 

Tony turns to him as he says “Water level 6” but falters as he sees Steve’s face. Yeah, Steve knows he looks like a deer in headlights, but… this isn’t exactly what he thought he was getting into with “let’s take a shower.” Steve has showered with plenty of guys. The war, training at Shield, exercising, the gym… it’s pretty common. But he guesses when Tony Stark invites you to shower and take care of your hard-on, a quick scrubbing and hand job was probably never on the menu…

Tony makes a partially aborted wave of his hand toward the toy baskets. “Hey, yeah sorry this probably looks like a lot! But this isn’t, I mean, it doesn’t have to be… we can do as much or as little as you want.” 

Steve hears the sincerity in Tony’s voice. What they just did was so good, he’s not nervous to do more really… A little intimidated that Tony obviously has what can only be described as “sex settings” for his shower. It makes Steve feel like he’s this dumb kid. Which, he’s fought Nazis, and led a team of superheroes for God's sake, he knows he’s not a _kid_ , but

He probably just needs to be honest.

“Tony I’m… I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m not really even sure what “as much or as little” even means. I think I’m probably most comfortable having you tell me what that is in more detail? And um, you probably already noticed I don’t mind you taking the reins?” 

Water has started pouring out of 6 of the faucets, steaming up the shower and making it pleasantly warm, but not hot. 

“Of course, of course I will talk you through everything Steve, you know me, I’d narrate paint drying.” It’s a bad joke, but Steve manages a smile because he knows Tony is just trying so hard to make him comfortable.

Tony motions to the various parts of the shower that changed/moved with his command. “So, the shelves are obviously everything we need to get clean. The baskets on the bottom are usually for when I want to do a little ah, self-care. I haven’t used anything in them with anyone else. In fact, this shower has pretty much seen only solo missions, like, for years. Not sure if that puts you at ease, I don’t want to get us off-course by talking about exes, but yeah, it’s not everyone’s thing and it’s _very much_ my thing so… anyway, the walls and amenities change depending which code I pick. I’ve custom-coded about thirty options, with more one-off features and settings.”

Steve steps closer to the nearest shelf and picks up a cloth that feels like it’s made of a thousand tiny soft lumps with gel in the middle, and another that he recognizes as a natural sea sponge. “How do you pick from all the options?” he asks.

“Well for bath stuff like that it’s usually at random,” Tony replies. “Honestly there isn’t a ton of difference when it comes to loofas and soaps. The best thing about this shower, is that it can change to accommodate the activities and preferences of the user. There’s a setting that creates a bathtub, one for nice soft floormats to appear wherever you want, platforms, seats, handrails… we could watch TV if we wanted.”

Steve snorts and rolls his eyes. He’s never been less interested in watching a TV in his life. 

“Okay, so, what were you thinking when you chose these settings?” Steve asks as he eyes the mini platform and elevated handrails. 

“Well, first I was thinking we’d get clean. I wash you, you wash me, simple.” Steve can picture them running their hands all over each other, smoothing Tony’s fancy soaps and creams into every crease and crevasse. He gets even harder and it doesn’t _feel_ that simple. 

“Then,” Tony goes on, “we can discuss what you want to do. I have a lot of ideas Steve. A _lot_ of them. So don’t feel like there’s any one thing we need to do or not do. Why don’t we get clean and then I’ll give you some more options?” 

Yeah, that sounds reasonable. Steve can handle that, picking from options. Tony makes everything easy.

Steve pulls Tony close into a quick hug, saying “Yeah, I’d like that.”

Tony eyes him with a predatory look and says “I promise you will, Steve."

* * *

Tony’s mind is on overdrive thinking of all the possibilities, but seeing Steve’s shocked face reminds him he probably needs to pull back a little. Steve has only been in the 2000s for four years. He was raised in the 20s and 30s, it was a totally different time. Steve probably gets the vapors from seeing a woman's ankle, he needs to remember that... Plus he’s probably heard about Tony’s past and thinks he’s a total slut…

Tony was telling the truth, this shower hasn’t seen much action. His schedule was hard enough to sync with Peppers, and she was never very keen on sexy showers… maybe _she_ was thinking about all those stupid tabloid stories about his “orgies.” So yeah the shower has been the source of a lot of fun for him, but this is the first time he’s gotten someone in here with him in years, and it’s _Steve_.

He knows he needs to go slow. That’s why he didn’t choose anything in the _Red_ category…

He guides Steve to stand in front of the mini- platform facing the wall, and steps up onto it himself so he’s facing Steve. With the added six inches he’s slightly taller than Steve. Perfect.

“So the platform is mainly for access. At this height, I can easily wash your hair. Stream 2, increase angle 30%”

A smooth stream of water adjusts so it runs down the base of Steve’s head and over his shoulders. Tony angles the water a bit more to wet Steve’s hair and then puts it back to run over his shoulders, grabbing one of the bottles next to him on the shelves.

Tony methodically scrubs at Steve’s scalp with the mint and aloe shampoo. The shampoo and all the soaps in the shower are edible (even tasty!) and 100% biodegradable. Nothing is worse than having a great shower and getting the acrid tang of soap in your mouth, or the sting of chemicals in your eyes.

Tony feels the tension release from Steve’s body as he works his way through his hair and reaches the base of his head.

“Tilt your head back a bit, that’s it. Auto-sense rinse and spray, avoid face.” 

Steve’s eyes are still shut in bliss but he raises an eyebrow at the last part, which is obviously another command for the shower.

Tony explains as he runs his fingers through Steve’s hair to get rid of the last of the soap. “So that setting will ensure any water jets or streams hit us just right, no water up the nostrils or in our eyes while we move around… okay now let’s wash the rest of you.”

* * *

  
  


Steve opens his eyes and watches Tony select a pretty standard-looking washcloth and an orange bottle. The smell of citrus erupts around him as Tony wets the cloth and pours a liberal amount of soap onto it. 

After his long, cramped flight, and the tension of confronting Tony the shower is absolute heaven. Tony begins to slide the soapy cloth down his neck and shoulders, down to his pecks. He circles each nipple several times, alternating first one, then the other. Steve gasps and some of the loose, relaxed feeling is replaced by a delicious tension. Tony tilts down a bit a sucks at one of the soapy nubs, biting lightly.

“Nrrg, uh, wha?” Steve can’t help but exclaim at the sensation, but also can’t really fathom that Tony enjoys eating soap…

Tony laughs and swipes another lick to pick up the foam on Steve’s chest before leaning forward to transfer the foam into Steve’s mouth with a tender kiss. 

Oh. All he can taste is orange, and maybe some mint? It doesn’t taste like soap at all. 

“Don’t worry, it’s still soap and perfectly hygienic. All my soaps are edible, it helps to keep thigs lick-able in the shower I find.” 

Steve huffs, “Why do I feel like you’re some kind of Willy Wonka, but with sex instead of candy?”  
  
Tony laughs a beautiful, genuine laugh. “You know what Steve, you may be on to something… nice modern reference by the way, who sat you down to watch Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory?” 

“Oh, isn't it Charlie and the Chocolate Factory? Is it a movie too? I have a list… but I’ve actually been reading a lot of children’s fiction… it’s nice, it keeps my mind occupied but there’s never anything in them that makes me think of the bad stuff, you know?” 

Tony’s heart lurches a little bit, and he pulls Steve into a hug. Just holding him gently in the soothing warmth. He wants to wrap Steve up and protect him from the world. He wants to make Steve forget there’s anything remotely close to “bad stuff.”

Tony rubs the washcloth along Steve’s back, playing the hug off as a maneuver to clean him. He gets to the swell of his ass before moving back around to his front, skimming the soapy cloth over his abs.

“Mmm, ‘washboard’ abs indeed, Captain” he says scrubbing the cloth along them as if he were Charlie Bucket’s mother himself. 

Tony steps off the platform and motions for Steve to get on in his place, and drops to his knees. His genius of a shower reads the motion and flips up a soft memory foam bathmat where his knees land. He’s not crazy about being back on his 40-something knees, but the look on Steve’s face is worth it.  
  
“Time for the lower half” he winks. 

_Winking, really?_ He hasn’t winked at anyone… maybe since before Iron Man, what’s gotten into him? 

It hits him like a ton of bricks that he’s… happy. Just, totally happy in a care-free way he hasn’t felt in so long.

He starts at the bottom, picking up Steve’s foot, lovingly scrubbing between the toes, around the ankle and up, and up until he’s at that delicious juncture between Steve’s torso and leg. A harsh V of muscle points like a fucking beacon to Steve’s aching cock. Tony bites that juncture, teasing, before moving on and away down to the other foot. 

“Tony…” Steve moans in a desperate whine.

Oh that’s gorgeous. Tony needs more of that.

“Hmm, yes Steve?” Tony asks as he rubs the cloth up gently to the back of Steve’s knee while kissing the knob in front.

“Uh, please, please I need…”

Tony scrubs up Steve’s thigh and back down. Smiling gently at Steve like he has no idea what could be the matter. 

“What do you need, Steve?”

Steve’s hands clench at his side. “I need you to touch me, touch my cock _please_.”

The please catches Tony’s attention. It’s already edging on a desperate, begging tone. Hmm, he may take pity on Steve and move things along… in a little while… 

He finishes cleaning Steve’s legs and considers Steve’s angry cock bobbing above him. “I think we’ve come to a fork in the road Steve. I have a couple of options for you.”

“Okay, _please_ …”

Tony stands so he can get a better look at Steve’s face as he talks.

“I could clean your lovely hard dick next. Run the cloth over it, massage your balls with some sweet soap and lick them clean. Take you in hand, then into my mouth…”

Steve let’s a gasp escape.

“That’s option one. But Steve, the thing is, there’s another part of you I haven’t cleaned yet.” 

Steve’s eyes go wide and his blush returns in full force. “Oh.” 

“Yes, oh… so if you’d rather, I can clean your ass. Dip my soapy fingers down to tease your tight hole. Open you up. Maybe if you beg just right, I’ll take your hole with my mouth, plunder you with my hot tongue. That's called rimming by the way if you didn't know...” 

Steve puts his hands out on Tony’s shoulders like he needs a physical support to keep from keeling over. It’s unlikely with the serum he’s actually light-headed. But it means Tony’s words have mentally worked him up so much that his brain _thinks_ he’s in distress. Fuck yes. 

“It’s your choice Steve.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What will Steve choose haha... Thanks for reading everyone, this has a mind of its own I swear, things ramp up next chapter as I'm sure you've guessed from that cliffhanger.


	6. The Shower Part 2 - More Options

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They're still in the shower.

Steve is conflicted.

The idea of Tony sucking him, coming into his hyperactive mouth, blocking that constant prattle with his cock… is amazing…

But he… god he never even _dreamed_ that Tony would put his mouth… there. His cheeks clench at the idea. It feels incredibly taboo, like something so foreign his brain doesn’t even have the ability to process it. Tony wants to stick his tongue in his ass.

Of course he understands the basic mechanics of gay sex, and that men go down on women, so it would make sense that you could do that with a man too, but he just never… He’s so hard that he can’t really stand to compare the two choices for more than a few seconds.

“Your tongue, um, the rimming. Please. _Please_ Tony.”

He knows he’s begging already, but he feels like he's going crazy.

He _just_ came, that should have taken the edge off… but it seems over the last few months he’s trained his body that he can come the moment he gets immensely aroused. Night after night he would wake up aching, and rush to take care of himself as quickly and quietly as possible. By the end in order to get even an hour of sleep he’d wake up hard at least two or three times a night, always ready to come. Waiting like this, even though it’s probably only been about 10-15 minutes makes his eyeballs itch and his hair stand on end. 

He thinks this must be what a junkie feels like, desperate for the next fix. 

Mercifully, Tony takes pity on him as soon as his decision is made, moving him immediately to turn around on the platform to face the wall. 

“Platform base up ten inches” says Tony. The area he is standing on in front of Steve’s platform raises him up the aforementioned amount. 

Steve turns his head away from the wall to look behind him and see Tony kneeling again. Steve can't remember Tony ever kneeling in his dreams but it is quite the sight...

Tony’s area of the shower is now raised up more than Steve’s platform; from his keeling position Tony’s mouth is perfectly aligned with Steve’s ass. Steve is starting to understand the genius of this shower.

“I’m going to touch you now Steve. First with a new cloth to clean you, then my fingers, then if you’re good, my mouth okay?”

“Yes Tony” God he already feels so close, what is Tony doing to him?

“If at any time I do something you don’t like, or if you have a question we’ll stop okay? Just say ‘Stop’.”

“Okay.”

“Okay what, Steve?”

“If I have questions or want you to stop I’ll say ‘Stop.’”

“Very good Steve, I’m going to take such good care of you.” 

* * *

Tony’s mouth is watering as he smooths a new soap on his favorite loofa. It’s got little gel beads running throughout it every half inch or so. The gel is slightly cool to the touch in the warmth of the shower and the gel bumps provide a unique massaging sensation when applied with the right pressure.

Tony eyes some of his toys in the bottom basket, but refocuses on washing Steve. He's taking it slow. Just his hands and mouth will probably be overwhelming for Steve tonight. Man out of time, etc. 

He gets to work running the cloth over Steve’s lower back and glutes. He presses the cloth back and forth, the little beads providing a mini-deep tissue massage. He then lets the spray do its work washing the soap away. Next he pours more soap directly into the top of Steve’s ass-crack. Steve shifts slightly at the cool sensation as it drips down down down.

“If you need to you can hold on to the handrails on the wall in front of you Steve.” There are two handrails above the platform in this setting, usually in showers they are there to prevent slipping, but in this case they are positioned to allow for a person who is fucking or getting fucked to have something to brace themselves on.

Tony slides two fingers through the soap down into the space between Steve’s ass cheeks. Stroking slowly up and down several times, just barely grazing his hole on the upstroke. Steve shifts on his feet and squats subtly, just the slightest bend of his knees, pushing his ass out an inch or so closer toward Tony. 

Tony rewards Steve’s accommodation with a hard bite right on his ass-cheek. He tastes like lemon and honey.

“Ah!” says Steve as he leans forward to grasp the handholds, sticking his ass out even further toward Tony’s waiting mouth. Yeah. 

Tony's bite doesn't leave a mark though he bit with intent. Interesting. He makes a mental note to test what exactly he'll need to do to leave lasting marks on Steve's body. 

Tony takes the gel-bead cloth and runs it firmly down between Steve’s cheeks, letting the little gel balls catch on his entrance, bump bump, bump, bump. Steve lets out a loud moan, he almost sounds like he’s in pain. Tony glides it back up, then back down. 

Bump, bump, bump, bump.

When Steve starts breathing harshly through his mouth Tony rinses him thoroughly with an adjacent spray stream, letting the water jet linger for a moment directly on Steve’s tight exposed opening. 

He adds more soap to the cloth and drags it along Steve’s perineum and then carefully over his balls. 

Tony pauses to press the cloth’s cool gel bumps more firmly up against Steve’s perineum on his way back to his hole. Steve releases the most animalistic groan yet. _Noted..._

Another rinse and he’s ready for some lube. Steve lets out a pathetic noise as Tony stands to gather more supplies. 

“Tony. Please.” 

He rubs at Steve’s hip to reassure him. “You’re doing so well Steve. I’m getting the lube now. You don’t want to use soap on yourself there, even my tasty ones.” Steve nods and gasps, breath shuttering, grip tightening on the handholds. Tony is glad he went all-out with the quality of materials for the shower, the handrails are titanium alloy and should hold up to Steve’s super strength… at least for a while. 

He imagines Steve ripping them from the wall while fucking him. Maybe they can do some stress tests next time… 

He grabs the lube and thinks to tell Steve “My lube is always in the gold tubes. Gold means go, easy to remember.” He knows Steve probably won’t be in the tower long enough to make use of that little tip, but he’s put the same shower with the same general layout and supplies in the master suite at the compound… if all goes well he’ll be able to start working through all thirty of the shower's settings with Steve in the not-too-distant future. 

“ _Tony. Please.”_

It seems like those are the only words Steve can come up with. Tony. Please. 

He works quickly to coat his index finger and joins Steve on his platform. Steve shifts to make room, still presenting his ass. 

Tony just stares for a few seconds. He can’t stand it, it’s too perfect. He wants to give it a firm, hard slap. But no, he’s going slow, spanking is probably something to work up to. You never know what may trigger Steve’s super-soldier fighting reflexes. 

“Keep your hands where they are, Steve,” he says and comes around to Steve’s side to slide a hand up to his face and cup his cheek. He guides Steve’s mouth down to his while sliding his other hand down to Steve’s ass. He kisses him just as he slides the tip of his finger down to caress Steve’s opening. Just a gentle touch, probing, testing how much he can slide in before he meets substantial resistance. 

Steve moan-cries into Tony’s mouth. Pressing his mouth closer to get more of Tony’s lips, and his ass out to get more friction on Tony’s finger. 

Tony retracts his finger in favor of tracing the rim. He circles Steve’s opening several times until the tip of his finger slips in again, continuing to circle, catching at the rim of Steve’s entrance, and gently stretching it. Round and round. 

“More please, Tony. Please more…” Ah, looks like we’ve gained another word. More. 

Tony gives in, sliding the finger in up to the knuckle. Suddenly he wants to know what Steve is feeling, what he might be comparing these sensations to.

“Has anyone ever done this for you before Steve?” He slides the finger out and back in up to the knuckle.

Another almost-pained groan escapes as he answers “N-noo.”

“That’s good” says Tony soothingly as he slides the finger out and then in again, in and out. In and out.

“Have you ever done this to yourself?”

Steve blushes, but doesn’t seem self-conscious, too caught up in the pleasure. 

“Y-yes. But not much.”

Tony rewards him by pressing in further, stretching him, opening him up more. “What does 'not much' mean?” 

“Uhg, uh, just… just a fingertip, not all the way… just spit… just wanted to feel…” 

Tony deftly adds more lube to a second finger and asks his next question.  
  
“What did you think about when you did it?”

Steve whimpers. 

“Shh, you’re doing so well Steve, answer and you’ll get a second finger.”

Steve’s head falls forward and he speaks, his breath short.

“You, I thought of you.”

Tony feels an electric shot go through him. Of course he figured Steve thought about them doing this once or twice before just falling to his knees before him. But well, they haven’t had the smoothest time of things the last few months… or really ever, so to hear "you" so immediately, with so much honesty. So much longing. 

He slides the second finger in roughly, on the edge of too much too fast.

Steve just moans and pushes back to meet it. So eager. Tony bets Steve could take a lot, more than the average person, all that bodily perfection. And _it’s his_.

“What did you think about me?” Tony asks, both fingers stretching him.

Steve is on edge now, shamelessly thrusting back against Tony’s hand. “I’d dream of you. You fucking me, touching me, fingering me open, putting me on my knees. Sucking you off, fucking you, you blowing me, god Tony… Can’t stop thinking about you, only you.”

Upon hearing "only you," Tony presses on Steve’s prostate with conviction. In response Steve’s channel spasms tightly around his fingers. Tony quickly grabs the base of Steve’s cock with his other hand. Steve is on a hair-trigger now. Tony tightens his grip to create a make-shift cock-ring with his fist to prevent him from coming without warning.

Fuck, Tony is having a hard time remembering what he was going to do next.

“Steve, I have one more question.”

“Anything Tony, anything…” 

God Steve must be close. He knows it's probably just his inexperience. To offer up "anything" so easily like that. It makes Tony want to wrap him up and keep him away from anything that could ever ruin that perfect openess.

“My question, Steve, is if you come now, will you be able to get hard for me again tonight?” 

Steve practically muffles a sob in response.

Tony is light-headed with power, holding Steve hostage between the two fingers jammed in his ass and the tight grip he has on the base of his cock. 

“ _Yes, yes_ , Jesus at this rate I’m never going to go soft _again_ Tony, please let me come!” 

Steve is flushed all over, his cock deep red. The titanium handholds creek under his grip.

“Shh, okay Steve, I’m going to make you come. You’ve done so well. You’re so perfect.” Tony kneels back down behind Steve’s prone form, sliding his fingers out of Steve’s ass but keeping two fingers and a thumb tight at the base of his erection. Steve is so thick his fingers don’t even meet his thumb around its circumference. Jesus, Tony want’s that inside him. 

“So good, Steve. I’m going to use my mouth now. You earned it. And you can come as soon as I Iet go of your cock okay?”

“Yes Tony, yes, thank you”

There’s no time for finesse, Steve is obviously almost at his limit. He’s stretched a decent amount from Tony’s fingers, so Tony seals his mouth around Steve’s lighty-abused hole and with one hard thrust inserts his hot tongue. 

Steve is actively sobbing in pleasure now. It’s so beautiful, Tony can’t contain his own moan as he pistons his tongue hard in and out of Steve. If they had more time he would love to go slow, tease him, savor the taste and feel of him. But that’s not what Steve needs now.

Tony lets go of the base of Steve’s cock and grabs his hips firmly, redoubling his efforts on Steve’s hole. Saliva and the lube he deposited there with his fingers make the way smooth and easy.

He stabs once, twice more and then moves one hand up between Steve’s legs to press hard on his perineum with two knuckles. Steve loses it, clenching down on him so hard he’s almost forced out. He fights to stay inserted as he dimly realizes that Steve is coming untouched, hands still glued to the handholds on the shower wall. Tony fights to stay pressed inside as much as he can as Steve rides through his orgasm. 

When he’s done he shifts and creakily let’s go of the handrails. 

Tony pulls back and swallows thickly before telling the shower “Recovery bench 1”

The shelf column on the right retracts and after a few moments the floor opens up and a bench about five feet long and two and a half feet deep raises up from the ground. It has very simple construction, just a hollow stone base, and a memory foam top similar to the floormats. Steve immediately shuffles over to it and slumps down, leaning his head back against the cool stone wall. 

The shower wall with the handles is absolutely covered with Steve’s ejaculate. The auto-rainfall cycle starts, rinsing the wall clean. Tony absently wonders if he should disable that feature. He turns back to Steve on the bench.

He looks fucking spent. His legs are splayed out in random directions, his chest is heaving. His eyes are closed tight, like he can’t even stand the stimulus of sight right now. 

Tony feels his cock twitch, but he isn’t anywhere near hard. Doing all that to Steve was as arousing as anything he’s ever done, but he just came less than an hour ago. And unlike some people he’s not a thirty-year-old super soldier with unlimited erections. 

Speaking of, he rakes his eyes over Steve and sees he is _still_ half-hard. Tony won’t push, but if he really does get hard agan, he has some more ideas.

Tony moves over to the bench and nudges at Steve’s arm. “Scoot over, soldier.” 

Steve opens his eyes, still looking a little dazed and moves to the center of the bench. Now that there’s room Tony lifts one leg up on one side of him, then swings the other up to straddle Steve’s lap. The bench is deep enough that Tony has room to slide down comfortably onto Steve’s lap and wrap his arms around his neck.

Steve smiles up at him as he brings his hands to rest on Tony’s angular hipbones. His head is still leaning back against the stone, like he can’t be bothered to lift it. Hmm maybe they really are done for the night.

“So, what did you think of rimming? Kind of ended up being a rush job there at the end, next time we’ll start there so you can really enjoy it.”

Steve clears his throat. “I uh, I would say I already enjoyed it.”

Tony leans forward and pauses, aware that not everyone loves the idea of kissing someone’s mouth that was just on their ass.

“Can I kiss you Steve? … Do you want to know how you taste?”

Steve’s hands clench on his hips, digging in hard, hard enough to bruise maybe. 

Instead of answering Steve lunges at his mouth. It feels almost like he’s mimicking Tony’s final efforts, Steve’s tongue franticly trying to reach every bit of Tony’s mouth it can. Digging at him, searching. Tony returns as good as Steve gives him, stroking his tongue over Steve’s sharing the lingering mild taste of the lube and Steve’s essence. 

When they pull apart Tony is breathing heavily. Steve seems mostly recovered, his chest rising and falling normally. Tony’s gaze drifts further down to see that Steve is fully hard again. Sweet Jesus.

Steve notices and laughs a little desperately, head thunking back against the cool stone tile. 

“Let me guess,” says Steve, “you have more options.”

Tony grins. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's... Yeah they are still in the shower. I swear there's more character development and discussion of the deep issues coming... Idk what to tell you, it's a really nice shower. 😅


	7. In This Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony and Steve have a misunderstanding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Angst ahoy! The dreaded conversation (or part of it) has arrived.

Steve doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry. 

He’s hard again, and he feels almost frustrated about it. Except, Tony looks so… adorable. It’s an odd thing to call Iron Man, but here he is on Steve’s lap, grinning like an idiot, or like… like some sort of sex imp. Steve is sure Tony would prefer the moniker of Sex God, or Patron Saint of Sex or something… and well, in Steve’s opinion those fit too. Steve isn’t sure if he can even come again. He feels wrung out, like he must have released every ounce of semen in his body. He’s glad the shower automatically washed away the evidence of his last orgasm sprayed against the shower wall. It was obscene. 

He thought he might go soft after that, but then Tony offered him his mouth, still wet and pliant from despoiling his ass and he couldn’t even think. He’s honestly worried about living the rest of his life with a constant hard-on. The serum has unknown limits, and Steve has never tested _this kind of limit_

Before, well with the few ladies he dated casually and then with Sharron he’d always been able to calm down. Sure, he _could_ go again, but it wasn’t like this. Steve tries to will his erection away, and it’s nothing-doing. 

It doesn’t help that Tony is squirming on his lap, already babbling about what he wants to do with Steve next… wait what? 

“Umm, can you repeat that? I was wool gathering…” Steve says.

Tony looks at him fondly and Steve isn’t used to it. Having Tony’s full undivided attention, it’s like, stepping out into the sun after being stuck inside all day. It’s blinding.  
  
“Hey, you know that ‘eat something and go to sleep’ is definitely still on the table, right? Like, that’s Option 1, and it’s a great one! Where are we on that?”

That does sound nice, it’s been a long night… but, Steve actually feels really good. The sleep on the plane recharged him and now his days and nights are a bit flipped. And, well, he’s hard as steel and sleeping like this with Tony next to him probably isn’t happening.

He pulls his lips into his mouth before answering, “I think I’d like to hear what the other options are?”

He’s blushing, again. He’s never blushed so much in his whole life, even when he had to deal with those USO girls on tour. 

Honestly, he’d love to just spend more time with Tony. They’ve been in the shower for quite a while now, but it’s so big and the spray is so intuitive that it’s not really like a shower. It’s more like a sauna, warm and relaxing. His fingers aren’t even pruney. Steve knows he’s getting ahead of himself, but he hopes the new compound has a shower like this. 

“Hmm,” says Tony, “well Option 2 is me finally getting my mouth on you so I can get a taste of your cock to compliment the taste I just got of your ass.” Tony is touching his cock again, just feather-light touches along his length. Steve has an absurd vision of Tony as a snake charmer, Steve’s penis slithering out of a basket, swaying to his siren song.

Steve swallows and nods, “And Option 3?” 

Tony’s eye glaze over a little. “Option 3 – is that you show me what you just learned. You open up my ass the way I just did for you… though you’ll need to use three fingers at least, god you’re so big Steve… then you fuck me, taking whatever you want from me. Win-win, I’ll get your cum in me, one way or the other, in my ass or in my mouth…”

Steve’s heartrate starts jack-hammering.

Unbelievably his cock seeps even more precum, enough that once again it’s glistening, the liquid sliding down to pool at the base. 

Tony notices and moves his hand along his length to spread the wetness around. “Mmm, yeah that’s right Steve, you're so hard again already, look at you. No matter what you chose, I'll make it so good for you.”

Steve is so aroused he can’t see straight, but something isn’t sitting right with him. Something...

He feels like a bucket of ice water has been poured over him as he realized what it is. Oh god, he’s so selfish. 

“I – fuck Tony wait. I mean… you’re not. You’re not hard.” 

Tony starts absently stroking Steve from base to tip, the precum making it slick and easy. “Hm? Oh yeah I know. That doesn’t matter…”

Steve feels like leaping up in agitation, but Tony is on his lap so he stays put. Doesn’t matter? _Doesn’t matter_? What?

Steve tries to keep his voice calm, but fails. “What do you mean? _Of course_ it matters! I’m not going to… I’m not going to do anything with you if you’re not going to enjoy it, Tony! I’m not just going to, to use you without you getting anything from it!” Steve suddenly feels panicked, like there’s something huge he’s missing.

How can Tony think he would… but oh god, why _wouldn’t_ he think that? Steve has already done just that. He let him eat his ass on his knees and Tony wasn’t hard at all. And Steve didn’t even notice, didn’t care. He was only thinking about himself. What if Tony didn’t even _want to do that stuff_. What if he's just been humoring Steve and his freakish cock... Hadn’t Tony just said Option 1 was a good one? He probably doesn't even want to do anything more and is just trying to go to sleep. He’s such an idiot. 

* * *

“Whoa whoa, Sunshine, hold on.” Tony watches Steve turn from blissed-out, to full-on panic mode on a dime. He replays what Steve’s said and feels a creeping dread. He has to get ahold of this now.

He grabs Steve hair at the back of his crown and yanks, hard. 

Tony isn’t wild about using physical force this way, not when Steve is obviously panicked, but he needs him to listen. It has the intended effect at least. Steve quiets and slumps against the wall, attention on Tony. 

“Steve,” Tony’s voice is dead serious. “I need you to listen to me, can you do that?”

Steve nods. 

Tony pulls a little more on the handful of hair. “Words Steve.”

“Yes Tony, I’m listening.” 

“Okay you just said a few things that are _completely wrong_ , and I need to be really clear with you about what we’ve done and what I want. Do you understand?”

Steve can feel his throat tighten. He’s sure Tony is about to tell him they don’t want the same things. That Tony was just going along with what Steve wanted. That Steve somehow messed this up. That he doesn’t know what he’s doing. That Steve isn’t right for him. This was a mistake. He didn’t really want Steve after all... If that’s what’s happening, he doesn’t know what to do. Steve wildly wishes he could just be frozen again to escape this moment.

Tony lets go of Steve’s hair and massages the area for several seconds. “I’m so sorry Steve, I should have been more clear with you. I _love_ everything we have done tonight. I am 100% over the moon about it, everything that’s happened. I have most definitely wanted it all; in fact I’ve been the one “taking the reins” right? Just because I’m not hard doesn’t mean I’m not so satisfied, so incredibly _grateful_ for you.”

Steve is struggling to understand. What Tony is saying, it feels like the warm sun on a snow drift. Thawing out his fears. But…

Steve tries to tell him, “But you’re not… it doesn’t feel right that I’m getting off and you’re not. I get that maybe you don’t _mind_ helping me out, but I don’t want it like that. I don’t want to feel like you’re, like you’re just going through the motions, or getting me off like some kind of…” Steve can’t finish.

“Like what, Steve? Like some kind of a whore?” Tony’s tone is sharper, and Steve feels stung. He didn’t mean to call Tony that! That’s the opposite of what he’s saying.

God Steve doesn’t know how to say the right thing. He paws kind of pathetically at Tony’s chest in apology. Tony’s chest, which is covered in scar tissue, which Steve is just noticing for the first time... God, has he even paid any attention to Tony this whole time, or was he too focused on himself, on having Tony meet _his needs_ to notice anything?

“Steve, Steve I think there’s been a misunderstanding. Can you tell me, can you tell me why you wanted to have sex with me?” 

Steve is back to his deer in headlights look. He doesn't understand what Tony is asking. What he's looking for. Why does he want Tony? That's like asking why he wants to eat when he's hungry. Or sleep when he's tired.

Tony waits but Steve seems to be glitching. Tony needs to solve this. He can solve this. “Okay, never mind that, how about I tell you the reasons I want _you,_ then?”

Steve nods slowly, not really sure where this is going. It doesn’t sound like Tony is letting him down easy... 

“The reason is, Steve… that I want to share myself with you, give myself to you. And not, not in the literal sense, although I want that _too_. I want to show you what you mean to me by making you feel good, and by sharing a part of myself that I haven’t shared with very many other people… maybe only one other person in my whole life...” Tony pauses, unsure. “Honestly this feels like it might be something I’ve never had with anyone else.”

He closes his eyes at the confession and takes Steve’s hands that are still resting tentatively on his chest and brings them up to his mouth, brushing his lips to Steve’s knuckles. 

Steve is no longer looking confused, more… thunderstruck. 

“Look, I think this is on me. I knew we needed to have a bigger conversation about what we were doing. I knew that maybe you weren’t 100% ready to jump into this with both feet. I was just so excited Steve… you’re… god you’re everything I thought I’d never have. I’m sorry if I pushed you to do something you didn’t want or didn’t understand.”

Steve wants to interrupt, it’s not that _he_ didn’t want it. He feels like Tony is speaking a different language. Can't he see this is about how Steve let him down?

Tony presses on. “I need you to hear me now. Me having an erection when we have sex is meaningless. If my dick fell off tomorrow I would still spend every day giving you pleasure in any way I could, because _that’s_ what gives me pleasure. Making you feel good is ultimately pretty selfish because it’s what I want more than anything.” 

Tony squeezes Steve’s hands, hoping this is getting through.

“Sex, when it’s with someone you care about like I care about you, isn’t about getting off. That’s a really fun part of it sometimes, but the **reason** Steve, the reason I want you is to take all this longing and admiration and incredible passion I have for you, and reflect it back to you. To show you we’re in this together, that you’re not alone.”

Tony pauses. His mouth has run away from him again, but this time he’s done something even more terrifying than suggest Steve give him a blowjob… he’s basically told him he fucking loves him. He hadn’t even really thought through his own feelings to that conclusion yet, but he can see it’s true. Fuck. 

The instant Steve kneeled in front of him, all that strength and all the purpose, surrendered on a silver platter to Tony. He sees he was lost from that moment. Completely fucked. In love with Captain America. He just hopes Steve is anywhere near the same galaxy as him right now. Fuck, he really didn’t want to get into all of this in the middle of their shower, but it looks like needs must…

  
  


* * *

  
  


Steve looks like he’s digesting everything Tony has said. 

“You’re wrong.” Says Steve, voice low.

Oh, shit. That hurts more than Tony thought.

“You’re wrong if you think I’m not ready to jump into this with everything I am, Tony. You, god I feel everything you just said for you too. I want, I want like you said, to reflect it right back at you.” Steve lets go of Tony’s hands to bring them up to cradle Tony’s head in his massive hands.

“I’m sorry I let you take on all the weight of what we’ve done tonight all on your shoulders. I’m not as experienced as you, and I just lost myself to the overwhelming feeling of it all. I didn’t – I was so focused on trying to give myself to you that I wasn’t letting you do the same.”

“Steve, it’s okay, like I said I’m totally on-board with everything we’ve done-“ 

Steve moves to interrupt Tony with a warm, soft kiss. “I know, I know. I just mean, I didn’t understand when you said it didn’t matter that you aren’t hard. I thought you meant that it was okay that we were having sex even though you _didn’t want to_.”

Tony physically shrinks in Steve’s hands at that. "Steve, no-"

Steve hurries on, determined to fix this. “I know, I get it now, I do. You want to give yourself to me on a level that transcends who comes, or when. You aren't just... I get it, and I want that too. So much Tony."

Steve kisses him one more time, like a promise. “I want… I want Option 3, if you still do?” 

Tony sighs relaxing into Steve’s strong hands. “I would love that.” 

Steve looks around, “Should we… leave the shower?”

Tony snorts. “God as much as I think I would enjoy you fucking me in the shower, the bed is probably a better bet for your first time… It is, it’s your first time with a man, isn’t it?”

Tony can guess the answer from their previous fingering interrogation, but it feels important to go over this while they’re not in the middle of having sex… 

Steve nods, before saying “Yeah, um, I’ve been with a couple of women but not… back then it wasn’t something you could be open about, and then, I like women too so it just seemed easier…”

“I get it. I was outed by a tabloid in my 20s, but I definitely let my dad and everyone else think I was straight for a long time. I just ask because I know you mentioned being less experienced and I want to make sure you feel okay with everything. I can still… even though you’re the one fucking me, I can take the lead if you want?” 

Steve slides his hands down Tony’s back to slip under the curve of his ass, suddenly remembering howTony exclaimed when they first started that he wanted Steve to “move him around however he wanted.” Tony can be like Steve’s Dream-Tony, but he's also the opposite. Tony likes to be _managed._ And Steve wants to be the one to give that to him. 

“What do _you_ _want, Tony?"_ He squeezes Tony’s ass.

Tony shivers and considers the question. “That’s a difficult question Steve, because I want everything, all the time, all at once. I think we’ll have the opportunity to explore a lot of different things together, so what we do tonight isn’t something I need to make the call on.”

“It’s not about you making the call Tony, it’s about me giving myself to you.” Steve turns Tony’s incredibly sappy words back on him with this little shit-eating smile that Tony wants to bite.

“Oh Steve. Okay, what I want… first I want to be very clear and reiterate that I am insanely turned on, and have been all night. Again, the spirit is willing, but the body… That said, I actually kind of get off on the idea of you fucking me while I’m soft? I know I just gave you a pretty speech about the deeper meaning of sex, but sometimes… things are just fucking hot.”

Steve blows air out his nose in amusement, shifting slightly as he feels himself grow even harder at the thought of Tony being filled and loving it, even though there’s no orgasm in it for him… yeah that’s…

Tony continues, “So Yeah, the idea of you taking me while I can’t come, while I just lay there and let you use my body (with both of us consenting and knowing full-well it’s more than that), is so fucking hot I can hardly believe I’m not hard. In fact, I am having like, phantom limb pain but for erections? A phantom erection? Like I _feel_ hard because I am so turned on, but then I look down and oh, nope. Which again feeds the hotness of you taking me in that state… so, sorry rambling…”

Tony refocuses and starts again. 

“Long story short, here’s what I want: I want to clean up in here on my own to make sure I’m good to go, then I want to meet you in the bedroom and let you have your way with me. I want to help you however you need, if you need instruction or direction, I’m there. But then, then I need you to open me up and take my body like you own it. I want you to own me, Steve.”

Steve nods, determined. Tony can only describe his facial expression as his “Captain America face.” He abruptly stands, taking Tony with him. Hands cupped under his ass. Just picking him up like he’s a sack of potatoes. No, more like a sack of feathers, fuck. He moves Tony away from the bench and over to the raised platform where he pauses. He kisses Tony deeply, then slowly lowers him to the platform like he’s made of glass.

“Get yourself clean, then come to bed Tony. But don’t slick yourself up, that’s my job.” His Captain America voice has come out to match the face. Oh sweet fuck, hearing the words “slick yourself up” come out of Steve’s mouth may be the best moment of Tony’s life. All he can do is nod.

“Words, Tony.” That cocky smirk is back. 

Mouthy Steve is out in full force any Tony is _here_ for it. Not to be outdone Tony responds, determined to shock the smirk off his face:

“Okay I’ll get clean and then meet you in the bedroom, Steve. I’ll be sure to stay nice and tight for you. Nobody has fucked me in about two decades, so I’d say you’ve got your work cut out for you.”

Steve gapes at him. 

Tony winks, and presses some of the small gold tubes of lube into Steve’s hands, turning around on the platform to address the shower “Cleaning mode 3.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hooray, this story is closing in on 100 Kudos which was a little goal I made for myself (well actually my initial goal was 10 haha)! Thanks for reading everyone, I think there are two chapters to go and maybe an epilogue.


	8. Owned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve owns Tony.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very explicit, like, probably don't read this in public...

Steve leaves the bathroom in a bit of a daze. He makes his way across the penthouse to what he assumes is the bedroom, enters and takes a deep calming breath. It’s a large room, and the bed is huge. Seeing the bed sets his mind in motion, he focuses. He’s going to concentrate on giving Tony what he wants, give him the focused care he’s given Steve so freely all evening.

 _I’ll be sure to stay nice and tight for you. Nobody has fucked me in about two decades, so I’d say you’ve got your work cut out for you… I need you to open me_ … _I want you to own me Steve._

Jesus. Steve palms himself to take the edge off and pushes away the self-doubt that creeps up as he remembers Tony’s words. He already jumped to doubting himself and doubting Tony once tonight; he won’t do it again. Steve wants to give Tony what he needs. To show him he can give as good as he gets. And yeah, the idea of owning Tony… he needs to restructure his headspace a bit. Months of dreams where Tony subjugated him have left him at a bit of a loss.

And nobody has done this to Tony in twenty years which means… well Steve isn’t sure exactly what that means, but he can tell it’s something special.

He looks at the tiny golden tubes of lube in his hands. Tony gave him about ten. He’s not sure if that’s what he’s supposed to use or if it’s wishful thinking on Tony’s part. He’s pretty sure Tony used two on him. He takes a few and puts them on the bed where they will be easily accessible, then takes a few more and puts them on the nightstand. The last ones go under the pillow Steve figures isn’t Tony's, and is therefore his. There, strategically-placed lube.

Steve isn’t sure what Tony’s expecting of him. Earlier by the elevator it was all so overwhelming, but now that he’s been on the receiving end of Tony’s attention for two orgasms, he thinks he gets it. He gets how to go about taking the lead.

He can pretty much do whatever he wants, he just needs to keep an eye on Tony’s reactions. Lean into the things Tony seems to like and move on from anything that doesn’t get a strong reaction. It’s a lot like a fight, or an interrogation. Taking what you want and balancing that against what the other person wants. And Steve has about a million things he wants to do to Tony.

Something shifts in his brain then. He’s never had penetrative sex with a man before, and he’s certainly never _owned_ one… but he knows how to read people, and he definitely knows how to read Tony. He’s also pretty good at coming up with plans of action.

He sits calmly on the edge of the bed to wait. He’s ready. 

* * *

Tony takes some time cleaning himself. He showered before Steve arrived, but definitely didn’t do the kind of cleaning required for having a cock up his ass. 

He’s nervous. Jesus he hasn’t been nervous to have sex since… well maybe the last time he did this? It really has been 20 years. He said it to shock Steve, but now he wonders if he told him so he’d know what a big deal it is. 

It’s not something he ever did a lot actually. Back in the day his sexual experiences with men were primarily made up of quick blowjobs in the backs of clubs, or the occasional hook ups that tended to be him topping because… well, it just seemed the thing to do. He’d only ever let a couple of guys fuck him, people he thought actually might stick around. Both times he regretted it almost instantly because it turned out twenty-something Tony kind of went for assholes.

He never stopped loving the sensation of being fucked, but after he was outed by that shitty tabloid Obie "helpfully" suggested he should stick to dating women for a while “just until the dust clears” and then… then he scratched that itch with toys and few custom inventions. 

Tony shakes his head and focuses on Steve. Steve who is waiting for him in the bedroom right now.

He dries off (“activate instant-dry”) and heads for the bedroom, anticipation coiled tight in his belly.

He enters and Steve is sitting at the edge of the bed; a small smile plays on his face as he looks up at Tony, but he doesn’t look nervous. God how does he do that? Tony hopes his nerves don’t show on his face. He’s gotten used to having the armor, a layer of protection between himself and the world. If his face was frozen in fear or taught with pain, no one could tell behind the sleek faceplate.

Steve just faces it all head-on. No fear. Of course he would treat this the same. Steve stands and moves toward Tony, confidence radiating off him. 

He stands in front of Tony and slides both palms up the center of his chest. He doesn’t press, just holding them there over Tony’s heart. Steve leans down, laying light kisses along Tony’s beard and jaw. Down to his neck, along his clavicle. He pauses sliding his hands to look more closely at Tony’s chest, running his fingers over the jagged lines of scar tissue, like he’s memorizing it. Tony thinks about saying something about the scarring, but what is there to say? He knows Steve knows what the scars are from. He wonders if they are off-putting to him, but the way Steve is slowly caressing them, then kissing them, Tony already has his answer. 

Steve is… worshipping him. 

After he’s explored every inch of Tony’s chest, Steve takes Tony’s hips in his hands and slowly walks him back to the bed. Not using any force really, just moving into his space until Tony suddenly finds the backs of his legs hitting the bed. He uses the same gentle pressure to lay Tony out on his back. Tony is shocked to feel that his eyes are beginning to sting. 

It’s so stupid, he didn’t think it would feel like this. He feels… he feels safe. 

It’s happened over and over tonight. The realization that Tony hasn’t felt truly happy, hopeful, relaxed, safe, in such a long time. Because he’s feeling those things now, and they feel new and foreign. 

He lets out a little gasp as Steve looms over him, running his hands slowly over his knees up to his thighs, still so gentle. 

“Do we need any protection?” Steve asks, and guh that’s, that’s actually a really wholesome and responsible question. Steve really isn’t the sweet boy scout cliché the public thinks he is, except sometimes he _is_ and it makes Tony’s teeth ache. He wants to tease Steve about those cheesy educational videos he’s made for the US Departments of Education and Health, but doesn’t want to break the mood. 

Tony clears his throat. “I’m clean, I can have Friday pull up my latest tests… and I think you are probably covered by the serum?”

“I was thinking that too,” says Steve, smiling warmly. “You don’t need to have Friday call up anything. I just wanted to check. I recorded that damn safe sex PSA enough times. Can’t be a hypocrite, right?” 

Tony smiles up at him from the mattress, loose and happy. “If anyone asks, I’ll tell them Captain America did his due diligence.” 

“Thank you.” Says Steve. But his tone is serious and doesn’t match Tony’s light one. They both know he’s thanking Tony for something else. 

It’s a thank you for letting him up to the penthouse tonight. For listening. For working to make things better. For understanding. For accepting Steve. 

Steve traces his hands over Tony’s body for several long moments before crawling up on the bed, and inserting himself between Tony’s legs. He slides his hands up Tony's hamstrings and pushes, curling Tony’s legs up toward his chest. Still slow and easy.

“Can you hold yourself here for me?” he asks.

Tony is floored and finds himself blushing lightly. Steve has positioned him on his back with his legs tucked up to his chest, his ass up to the open air, spread out before him like an offering. 

He reaches out to grip his legs behind the knees and pulls back to where Steve put him. It’s comfortable enough for now, but he’s not sure how long he can hold this. “Yes I can hold myself open for you, Steve.”

“Good. Let me know when you get tired and I’ll take over.” 

Tony’s been in a modified crunch during the exchange so he can see Steve, but he relaxes fully onto his back, letting his head fall to the mattress to get comfortable. He can’t see Steve anymore, and jolts in surprise when he feels Steve lift him up to meet his tongue.

“Fuck.” 

Steve has gently taken Tony’s ass in his two massive hands and tilted Tony’s exposed hole up to his mouth. Just an experimental brush of his tongue over the area. Soft and gentle. 

“Steve, _please_ …”

“Please what, Tony?”

Motherfucker. Has this whole lead up been a tease? Is Steve trying to get him to beg? Ask and you shall receive. 

“Please fuck me with your tongue, Steve. Open me up, get me ready. I want to feel you inside me. I don’t want to wait anymore, I’ll hold myself open, just for you. I’m ready, take me with your mouth, _please_ …”

Steve seems satisfied with that because he licks at Tony in earnest, probing him with the tip of his tongue. But then he stops, he doesn’t delve any further…

Because instead of working into Tony with his tongue, he begins _lifting Tony up to him_. Taking his ass and raising it up while holding his mouth and tongue in place stiffly above him. Up and down. Lifting most of Tony’s body up to his mouth over and over. Tony’s pelvis is being moved like a buffet platter Steve is licking clean. He moves Tony in little circles to swirl him around and around.

Tony groans at the knowledge that this thing Steve is doing, it’s uniquely his, because any normal fucking person wouldn’t be shifting someone else’s entire body weight to manually fuck their ass over their tongue. Tony starts to rock up, pulling at the backs of his knees to force his ass up harder.

Steve groans and Tony can feel a rush of his saliva coat his hole. This goes on for who knows how long, Tony is totally in the zone until,

“Steve, uh, I’m, I’m gonna lose my grip.” 

Steve lowers Tony’s body back down to the bed and slides his hands up to the juncture where Tony’s hands have been gripping his own legs to keep himself open. He pulls Tony’s hands back and replaces them with his own, holding Tony's legs back a bit more. He just holds him open there, taking a moment to look at the result of his efforts on Tony’s entrance.  
  
“You looks so good Tony, I’m going to hold your legs open like this just a little longer okay? I want you to get nice and slick for me.”

He braces one arm across both of Tony’s legs to keep him exposed, tilting his ass up again with a gentle pressure. Rather than move to get the lube Tony knows is located somewhere around his head, Steve scoots up and presses the head of his cock against Tony’s entrance.

Tony can’t help the strangled noise that rips from him. He knows Steve isn’t going to try to penetrate him from just a thorough rimming, but he can feel him there, the hot head of his erection, just a ghost of a presence. What? 

“Steve, what?”

“I thought we would put some of this to use” Steve says and he works himself roughly with his free hand, cockhead still resting on Tony’s upturned hole. After a couple of seconds Tony’s body vibrates in understanding. He feels the slick moisture drip onto his exposed entrance. Fuck, Steve is milking his precum out onto Tony to act as make-shift lube. 

“Steve, you beautiful genius, _yes_ , get me wet. Fuck your precum into me, onto me, make me take your arousal. Open me up with nothing but your wet dick…”

“Shh,” Steve says as he traces the perimeter of Tony’s hole with his cockhead, rubing it around and around. “That’s right Tony, it’s just me and you... I’m opening you up with my precum... because you are mine. Marking you... This part of you is mine, no one else’s.” 

Tony whimpers. 

* * *

Steve knows he can’t actually just use his own juices to open Tony up, but he got the idea as Tony was stroking him in the shower. He’s slick. Really slick. With enough prep he probably could fuck Tony on that alone… but for now he thinks this probably helps get at Tony’s desire to be owned.

Once he’s got a decent amount on his fingers and deposited onto Tony’s puckered entrance, he tests out dipping a fingertip. It slides in easier than he thought. He moves it in and out, mesmerized that he’s actually doing this. Tony has started babbling; it’s just a string of words that are incredibly graphic and increasingly nonsensical. 

Steve surreptitiously takes one of the golden lube tubes out from under the nearby pillow and adds its contents to a second finger. It’s a tight fit, and the way Tony moans Steve is concerned he’s hurting him. He lowers Tony’s legs and lets them fall to the bed, allowing his lower body to go slack and loose, with his fingers still pressed inside.

“How does that feel Tony, too much?”

“No, no, no, you’re perfect, more, yes take me harder Steve!”

Steve pistons his fingers in and out with more pressure, stretching, sliding, trying to find that sensitive place…

“Steve! Steve! Steve!”

There. He focuses on touching Tony on that precious spot but with no predictability, hitting it several times in a row then backing off, hitting it again, then avoiding it. 

Tony is basically non-verbal now, just moaning with the occasional word slipping through like “yes” or “fuck.” 

“I’m going to give you a third finger now Tony.”  
  
“Yes Steve, yesss.”

“But first, I have a question.”

Tony’s head launches up off the bed where it had been thrown back in pleasure. He looks ready to spit fire.

Steve would laugh if he wasn’t so focused. He smirks instead. 

Tony takes a second to collect himself. “Damn it, Steve, who taught you _this_ is an appropriate time for questions??”

“Hmm, I learned this technique not long ago from this really hot guy in his custom modular shower…”

Tony laughs and flops back, hands waving in an “ask away” motion.

“Why haven’t you done this with anyone else in so long?”  
  
Tony groans and it’s not a groan of pleasure. Steve pauses. He doesn’t want to push Tony if it’s something he really doesn’t want to talk about, but, he did tell Steve.

“Steve… I, I don’t know I just didn’t want to.”

“Then why now? Why with me?”

Tony brings his arms up to cover his eyes. Steve slowly moves his fingers in and out, scissoring them. Soothing Tony with a gentle rhythm. 

“I just… uh, that feels good, it’s just that doing this with someone requires either a lot of carelessness or a lot of trust. I got smarter, more careful, and I didn’t trust anyone enough, so I just didn’t.”

Steve keeps up the unhurried movement of his fingers and moves up Tony’s body so that he can kiss him. “So you’re saying you trust me?”

Tony exhales heavily against Steve’s mouth. “Yes”

Steve kisses him again sweetly saying “I trust you, too” before moving back to his previous position. He grabs another gold tube and empties it over Tony and his fingers before adding the third finger. Tony groans, raising his arms above his head and holding them there. Steve takes him in, imagining that something is holding his arms there, maybe his shield… Fuck.

Steve re-focuses. He knows Tony loves to talk, and gets the sense that he also loves to hear Steve. 

“You look so beautiful like this Tony, stretched out for me, taking it so well. Look at you, blissed out from just my fingers.” Steve twists and spreads them as he speaks. “How does it feel to be fucked open by me, totally spent, unable to do anything but take it? Do you still want my cock even though you’re not hard, can’t come? Can’t do anything but exist just for me?”

Steve takes the last tube at hand and pours it over his cock as he talks, stroking himself to spread it around.

“Please Steve, please…”

Steve can’t wait anymore. He’s been so entirely focused on Tony’s pleasure and comfort that he has been ignoring his own arousal, almost unaware of it. But now that he’s spreading the lube over himself he realizes how close he is, how much everything has been affecting him. He’s so turned on he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to last more than a few strokes.

He takes Tony’s legs and hauls them up to rest on his chest and over his shoulders, aligning his cock with Tony’s entrance. He presses slightly and is surprised when the head pops right in through the first ring of muscle. Oh god. 

“Steve, yes so good, keep going.”

But Steve has to pause. He’s seeing stars.

The urge to thrust is overwhelming, but Steve realizes with a sinking feeling that he doesn’t know how well he can control his strength like this. He’s never felt like this before, pulled to the edge, barely holding on. Usually when he feels anything like this he’s fighting for his life. Holding back isn’t really an issue in those cases. 

Tony is squirming now, trying to get more of Steve in him. Steve takes his hips and stills them.

“Tony, I need you to be still, and quiet.” Steve knows his voice comes out harsh. He doesn’t mean it to be, but the idea that he isn’t in control of himself is… he needs a minute to think.

Tony stills, breathing fast. 

Steve slowly pushes forward, advancing at a snail’s pace. By the time he’s seated fully inside Tony he knows he needs to do something to slow himself down, something more than mindless thrusting. 

“Tony, I need you to do exactly what I say, okay?”

Tony’s eyes are wide. “Yes, Steve. Anything.” He remembers thinking Steve telling him "anything" earlier in the shower was sweet and a sign of his inexperience. To tell anyone that in such a vulnerable moment... But here he is saying the same thing. He would. He would do anything.

“I’m – I need you to keep still and just let me move you. I’m feeling… god I’ve never felt like this. I need to focus 100% on this because I’m worried if I let go, if I get carried away, I could hurt you. How I move in you needs to be highly controlled. I need you control you. Do you understand?”

Tony inhales sharply. “Okay Steve, I trust you.”

* * *

Fuck, Tony knows he should say something else, something to reassure Steve that he won’t hurt him, that it’s okay… but Tony’s too lost in arousal at the thought of Steve hurting him, or trying not to hurt him, or fuck he doesn’t know.

_I need to control you._

Jesus fuck if Steve isn’t hitting all his buttons like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

His phantom erection is back, and oh… _nope_ , looks like Steve going full-on commander on him has done it, he’s half-hard and getting harder. 

Tony doesn’t say anything about his growing erection. Steve told him to be still and quiet. Steve is in control. 

Steve is maneuvering him now, pressing forward to slide one hand to the plane where his back meets his ass, the other going up to the center of his back between his shoulder blades. Steve takes a deep breath, and lifts Tony, shifting up fully on to his knees. 

Tony almost squawks, but holds it in. Steve has lifted him fully off the bed, supporting him with his arms at Tony’s back and ass. They’re still connected, Steve flush against him. Tony looks at Steve’s face to see it unyielding in concentration. Tony goes to lean forward, to wrap his arms around Steve, and drop his legs down but Steve stops him.

“No. You have to stay like this Tony.” Steve is on his knees in the center of the bed, holding Tony to him ass-first. Tony’s legs are still up against Steve’s torso running up past his shoulders. Tony can’t move comfortably at all, all he can do is lean back into Steve’s arms, which are acting as a brace keeping him at a 45 degree angle.

Tony doesn’t see what Steve’s plan is until he draws himself out and slowly lowers Tony back down over himself, holding Tony’s entire weight in his arms. Oh.

“Steve.”

“Shh, I know, just… I need to concentrate Tony. Can you relax into my hold? I’m going to move you up and down over my cock until I come. I just need you to move where I put you okay? You can lean back, I won’t let you fall.”

Tony leans back fully as instructed, and he realizes it’s like he’s in a sex swing, but the swing is _Steve’s arms_. Fuuuck. 

Steve finds a stronger hold under his ass while supporting his full weight and slowly lifts him up again, then back down. He repeats that motion over and over, adjusting the angle slightly each time. When he gets to an angle that rakes across Tony’s prostate, he can’t help but mewl. 

“So good Tony, I uhh, can barely stop myself from pummeling into you, feels too good. Don’t want to hurt you.”

“You’re not Steve, you’re making me feel so good, I’m close.”

Steve looks down in surprise at that “Close?”

He lifts Tony up and down again, slightly faster, like the sight of Tony erect has loosened his iron control just a bit. 

“Tony, I, I need to keep my arms like this to balance you. Can you, I need you to touch yourself.”

“Yes, Steve, I’m almost there, you’re amazing, holding me like this.” Tony reaches down to where he and Steve are joined to swipe some of the copious lube and slick moisture that’s gathered there. Tony can tell this is going to be fast, even though he’s only been hard again for a short time.

Tony leans back against Steve’s strong arms, grasping himself tight. He throws his head back and let’s go.

* * *

Steve has never needed to come this badly. He vaguely wonders if it will be like that every time with Tony. It has so far, his need for every new orgasm dwarfing the ones that came before.

He once again feels pleasure overload, where he can’t seem to contain the feeling within his body. He’s floating, on another plane outside himself, it’s too much. Seeing Tony throw himself back, confident Steve will support him, touching himself, moaning Steve's name.

He can’t stand to move Tony fully off his length anymore, he’s just taking him up a couple inches and right back down, creating a fast, shallow ride for them both, rutting hard against’s Tony’s prostate as Tony speeds up his hand on his own cock.

“Steve!” Tony says a final time before he’s spilling over his own hand and onto Steve’s chest. 

That does it, seeing Tony’s cum on skin sets him off. He still manages to be careful. He doesn't squeeze or bend Tony’s less-resilient body, just holds him, pressed fully inside, filling him. God he can tell he’s somehow coming just as much as he did in the shower. He feels like he's coming and coming and will never stop. When it's over Steve stays still, just enjoying the last moments he'll be inside Tony before he has to remove himself. His cum feels sloppy around him, like it's about to slide out at the angle he's still holding Tony.

Tony is just laying back, exhausted. He looks like some kind of classical Roman painting. Beautiful. Steve's warm ejaculate makes it easy as he carefully extracts himself.

Tony moans at the loss but is otherwise silent, pliant. Steve shifts Tony into a bridal carry and moves them to the other side of the bed where the sheets and comforter are cool and undisturbed. He knows they’re both a mess, but it’s all he can do to lay Tony down and follow close behind, wrapping him up in his arms.

They’re both asleep in seconds. Steve doesn’t dream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are in the home-stretch! Thanks so much for all the feedback and support ☺️


	9. Two Idiots

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snuggling, and planning. Then talking and more snuggling.

It’s late-morning when Steve wakes up. His body is singing.

Another full night of sleep and three intense orgasms the night before mean he feels better than he has in months. He looks over at Tony, who is already up. His back is against the plush headboard, glasses on, tapping away at a Stark Pad in his lap.

He notices Steve is awake and moves immediately to put the pad aside. He sets it on the bedside table, next to… oh.

“You kept the phone.” says Steve, noticing the flip-phone he gave Tony months ago on a wireless charging pad next to the tablet. 

Tony scoots back across the massive bed to Steve, flopping down next to him.

“Of course I did, though I paired it my _actual_ phone and put your number in under a cryptographic lock code. I wasn’t going to drag that old-ass Nokia around with me everywhere!” 

Steve thinks that if Tony did all that, there was no reason for him to keep the actual phone out, on his bedside table this whole time… it's probably the first thing he sees when he wakes up.

Steve pulls Tony close into a tight embrace, rolling his body to press against Tony's slighter form. He struggles to resolve all the stressful emotions he associated Tony a few months ago, hell, even less than 36 hours ago with the surging gratitude he feels now. How could he ever have doubted him?

He rubs his hands up and down Tony's back in a silent apology. Tony hums and presses back against Steve. It's not sexual, just a comforting return of Steve's physical affection, like a cat pressing into the hand of its owner.

Steve just wants to stay there quietly enjoying the warm cocoon of a bed, lazing with Tony in their own little world. But instead he sighs and says, “We probably need to talk about the team, the accords… next steps.”

Tony quietly groans and buries his nose into Steve’s neck, breathing him in. “Please mom, five more minutes.” 

Steve smiles and closes his eyes. “Okay, five minutes.”

Five more minutes turns into thirty, which then developes into frantic frontage with the remaining gold lube when Tony helpfully points out that Steve has become hard again during their cuddling.

Which turns into another shower, because by then they really, _really_ need it.

Which turns into Steve’s stomach growling and Tony insisting they go out to the kitchen and get him something to eat, because really with all the fluids he’s lost, plus not eating in like 24 hours he knows Steve must be getting hangry, and how can they possibly plan the Fate of the Avengers like that?

Finally, after Steve has eaten three sandwiches and finished off all of Tony’s orange juice (Tony eats one sandwich and a pot of coffee), they can’t put it off anymore.

It takes hours. The plans Tony already has in place get them halfway there, but none of it assumed the rogue Avengers were on board. Many things need to be re-worked, hard timelines and goals outlined to move things forward. And it’s only the beginning. Tony will have a lot more to communicate to his lawyers and the Wakandian leaders once Steve can confirm the rest are on board.

By evening they are at a good stopping place, and Tony thinks to ask: “So what are we doing about Barnes?”

Steve freezes. 

They have not talked about Bucky beyond Tony briefly absolving him over his role in his parent’s death, saying he “gets that Hydra are a bunch of brainwashing dicks.” He'd compared how he felt about Bucky now with how he'd come around to Wanda. 

“I, what do you mean?” asks Steve. Is Tony not as understanding of what Bucky did under Hydra's control as he said; does he blame him?

“Well,” Tony says slowly, like he thinks Steve is missing something obvious. “He’s still a wanted man, right? He can’t hide in Wakanda forever. We need to figure out how to get him exonerated too, offer him a spot on the team if he wants it. I probably owe him a new arm too, now that I think about it…” Tony shrugs, eyeing the last dregs in the coffee pot wistfully.

Steve scoops him up into a bone-crushing hug, lifting him off the ground and even spinning him around in one tight circle.

“Steve, haha, wha-“ 

But Steve is kissing Tony before he can even get the question out. Steve can’t believe this. He really has been such a stubborn, goddamn idiot.

Tony can’t do anything but just relax into Steve’s arms and get kissed for all he’s worth. He can’t believe this, he really should have just called Steve. He could have had this months ago, what an idiot. 

* * *

Eventually Steve lets Tony free (Tony doesn’t _want_ to be free, but there’s only so much making out a 40-something billionaire can do without feeling a little ridiculous). 

They have the largest pieces of a unification plan settled; the rest will need to develop once Steve returns to his half of the team and Tony has worked more on the amendments. Tony makes a note to provide Steve with an untraceable Stark phone. According to their plan they will probably be separated for at least a month, maybe longer. Tony wonders where Steve stands on phone sex… 

Per the plan, Steve will _actually_ go visit Bucky once he leaves New York on his way back to the team and update him on their plan to restore his status in the world. Tony wishes he could be a fly on the wall when Steve tells Barnes they’ve kissed and made up… huh, well probably not the kissing part? Tony isn't really sure where Steve stands on telling people about them.

After they've eaten again, Tony says, “Come lay on the sofa with me, I want to talk some more, but it’s not like, logistics and planning. More just, general “us” stuff.” 

Steve smiles dopily. _Us_. 

Tony lays himself out on the sofa and gestures to Steve to lean back up against him so they can spread out comfortably. 

Once Steve is settled, his back to Tony’s chest, Tony starts: “I wanted to ask where you’re at, check-in. We did a lot in the last 24 hours and I know we had that blip in the shower. What did we do that you liked, what didn’t you like? Do you have questions?”

Steve snuggles back into Tony and grabs one of his hands to play with while he thinks. He doesn’t even know where to begin.  
  
“I’m… really good. Better than good. Is “best” a feeling?” Steve laughs almost in disbelief. “God Tony, I don’t think there was _anything_ we did that I didn’t like. I feel so comfortable with you; it feels so natural... I’ve never felt like this.” Steve’s throat gets tight. 

Tony moves his hand that isn’t occupied by Steve and runs it through his golden hair, sensing his heightened emotions.

“Same." Tony kisses Steve's temple. "I hope you aren’t feeling at all self-conscious about how experienced you are, because seriously, that was the hottest sex of my life. 100%, no questions, the Best with a capital B.” 

Steve flushes in pleasure. 

Tony goes on, “A lot of what we did, the kneeling, orgasm denial, the way you took me and told me what to do. It skirted, or outright ran into dominance and submission, which is adjacent to a lot of other stuff like S&M. How are you feeling about all that?” 

Steve can feel his skin getting hot. “I feel… really good about all of that Tony. I… before last night I thought I really wanted you to take control, tell me what to do, um, dominate me? But, I think, I also like the other way, where you do what I want. They both felt right.” He shrugs, he can’t really explain it better than that. 

It seems insane how well-matched they are. Tony doesn’t believe in fate or anything like that, he’s a scientist. But it's just so statistically unlikely that he could find Steve, and for Steve to feel the same way. And for them to have been at such odds with one another and still find themselves here, now, snuggling on his sofa. As much as he hates to admit it, maybe some things exist outside of science. 

And Jesus fuck if they aren't a total match sexually. Tony loved Pepper, but their sex life wasn't exactly what he would call ideal. It wasn't anyone's fault, and he felt lucky that someone like Pepper even wanted to be with him. So a somewhat subdued bedroom wasn't a deal breaker.

But Steve is ticking all his boxes and seems eager for more... The fact that he needs to come at least twice makes Tony's head spin with the possibilities. 

After a moment Steve does think of one thing to bring up. “I really, _really_ liked when you slapped me in the face with your cock.” 

Tony lets a happy little moan escape. God damn, constant phantom erections may be his new perpetual state of being around Steve. 

Almost echoing Tony’s same thought, Steve says “I don’t know what I’m going to do; how am I ever going to lead a meeting again? I get hard at the drop of a hat around you.” He snuggles into Tony to punctuate his words with affection.

“Hmm,” says Tony, “We may need to institute a mandatory Blowjob Before All Meetings rule."

Steve chuckles, “Yeah but I’ll probably _still be hard_ even after you blow me…”

“Good point," says Tony, better make it a blowjob then you fuck me, then I…” 

Steve dissolves into a series of incredibly charming giggles. Captain America, giggling. God Tony wants to record that sound and upload it to his private server. Turn it into a white noise machine setting. Maybe make it his ring-tone. 

Once Steve calms down, Tony starts again: “This, the you and me thing… it may be complicated. I don’t want anyone on the team to doubt our ability to work together, or to feel like there are any conflicts of interest. And… I don’t know how you feel about everyone knowing. About us.”

Steve sobers. “I… honestly with everything I haven’t given that a lot of thought.” Steve is silent for several moments. “I think getting everyone back together, soothing the tensions our conflict has sewn; that will be step one. I’d like to keep us, just for _us_ at least for a little while?”

Tony begins to nod, about to agree.

Steve quickly carries on before he can, “Not that I’m ashamed or embarrassed! At all. I don’t want you to think I don’t _want_ anyone to know. It’s just already so complicated…”

“I get it, Steve. I think you’re right that the first step is getting everyone back together. Hell, convincing them they can trust me and that you and I really have resolved things. That's the priority.”

Steve nods, “I’ve been thinking about that actually. What would you think about co-leading the team with me?”

Huh. “I’m not sure that’s my thing…” says Tony.

Steve leans back more into Tony’s chest. “Think about it. Or, maybe we can formulate some kind of consensus system, a democracy?” He brings his hands to rub over his eyes. “I don’t ever want to do “my way or the highway” again. Look where that got us...”

Tony breaths out. “I don’t know Steve, think of all the times it _did_ work. I think your way of leadership works. _Almost_ all of the time. But we need a way to work out what to do when I, or anyone else on the team, thinks something isnt right.”

“I want that,” says Steve nodding, “I want everyone to know they can tell me my call is wrong. That everyone has the power to suggest another course of action and change it. I want us to decide things together. To stand united especially over the big stuff.”

Tony smiles, relief flooding through him “Then I think that gets us 90% of the way there. Steve, we need a leader, and we need a single point of direction in the field. When it comes to bigger stuff, we’ll all work together to figure it out.”

It's exactly what Steve needs to hear. At the end of the day he's just one person. He's barely thirty. The literal fate of the world shouldn't rest on his shoulders. Once he may have thought it did, but he sees there is a better path forward.

Steve turns around so he’s on his stomach on top of Tony, looking him in the eye.

“I know this isn’t something to take lightly. The team, and the “us stuff.” I’m in this, Tony. All of it. Completely.”

Tony doesn’t know what to say, he wants to say “me too” but that seems a little low-effort given the declaration Steve has just made. 

Steve smiles, “No pressure, I know you’re all-in with the team, and I know everything with Pepper only happened a few months ago. I just want you to know I’m not going anywhere, no matter what.” 

Tony slides his hands along Steve’s jaw, his mouth pulled up to one side and responds, “Me too. Whatever it takes, right?”

Steve laughs and buries his face in Tony’s chest. 

“So, what now?” asks Steve after they’ve laid there for several long moments. He knows they’ve pretty much planned what to do over the next month to get everything back on track, but, he’s not sure when or how Tony is expecting him to leave. How can he be expected to leave when things feel this perfect?

Tony responds, “Now… there are three more days until the penthouse needs to be packed up and cleared out. And then, we part ways for a little while and move forward, together.”

Steve nods against Tony’s chest. “I’ll talk to the rest of the team, you talk to the other rest of the team, and we’ll hopefully be back together soon.”

Steve gets quiet for a while, some old worries swirling around his brain at the hard prospect of leaving Tony.

“We’re _really_ okay?" he asks. "I hurt you so badly Tony… physically and... you said, you said you had a concussion, and the shield hurt your ribs?” Steve nuzzles into his chest apologetically. 

Tony sighs. “It’s… The cradle fixed it… Look, I can’t promise the next time we fight I won’t get freaked out a little… and yes don’t look at me like that Steve, we’re both running high on endorphins now, but we are going to disagree in the future. You’re a stubborn son of a bitch and I can be kind of an asshole. We’ll work on it.”

Steve tries to smile, still tense. He doesn't know what he needs to hear, but he can't help but feel things aren't resolved.

“Steve, what we’ve gotten through in the last few hours alone goes a long way to fixing everything, honestly. So if you’re asking if I need something else to forgive you, to move forward, I can’t think of anything. What, were you thinking of something?”

Steve takes a deep breath. “I was thinking, after we are all cleared, I could make a public statement of apology? Or of unity if that’s better? To make sure everyone knows I believe in you, believe in the team?”

Tony nods his head a little and brushes his lips to Steve’s, speechless. 

They lay there for a while just enjoying each other’s warmth.

When Steve begins again, his voice is playful. “And I don’t know, maybe I can do something to make it up to you, like, hmm… do your laundry? Wash your car?” 

“Pfft, Steve you do know I have like 50 cars, right? And I have people for that.”

“Hmm,” says Steve. “What if I did it in an American flag bikini?” 

Tony guffaws. 

“Hmm that _is_ an interesting offer… maybe not my cars but, you could get all dolled up and spangle-y and wash the armor?”

Steve lets out another gorgeous laugh, and leans up to smack Tony’s mouth with an overly wet kiss.

“Whatever it takes, Tony.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two more chapters to go! 
> 
> Next up we see the impact of the reunification on the events of Infinity War/Endgame and beyond (hint, Thanos gets his ass handed to him, and ~almost~ everyone gets a happy ending).
> 
> Aiming to post the final section in two parts by the end of the weekend 😁


	10. Finite War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's great that Steve and Tony are in love and all, but Thanos is still coming for the stones...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Had to split the conclusion into two chapters because it was getting really long.

_"Whatever it takes, Tony."_

**_24 Hours Later_ **

Steve comes up for air from his latest bout with Tony to realize his phone has been in his pants this whole time, discarded by the elevator.

He jumps up and runs to get it, feeling guilty. What if the team needed him?

The phone is dead, so he sets it on Tony’s wireless charging pad. They’ve spent the last day alternating between intense physical release, and calm periods where they eat, talk, and just generally enjoy each other’s company. Steve knows they’ve covered all the ground they can with the accords and strategizing to bring the team back home. He really should be heading out to see Buck, and then return to the others...

But he doesn’t want to give this up.

He’s never been this happy. And chances are he won't get to be with Tony like this again any time soon. Even when the new accords launch, and the team coalesces in the compound upstate… it’s just hard to imagine having this kind of time to just… be. 

He has no idea what Tony has pushed in his schedule to have this time with Steve uninterrupted. Earlier that day he caught the end of Tony on a call that sounded like it was with Pepper. Tony said something about rescheduling things for next week, and Steve hadn’t wanted to break the spell by asking what he was causing Tony to miss.

His phone blinks to life at 10%. Steve looks over at Tony, who is still basically passed out. Steve shifts tenderly as he swipes in his code and settles gently on the edge of the bed so as not to disturb him. In their last round Steve got his first experience bottoming and his ass is still tender. It’s fading quickly, but he flushes at the intensity of it. Tony really didn’t hold back… shit, he’d better focus on the phone before he gets sidetracked, again. 

<<Six unread messages>>

<<Four misses calls>>

<<One new voicemail>>

Shit. All of it is from Sam. So it’s probably not anything connected to the team's well-being, otherwise Natasha or Clint would have contacted him.

He listens to the voicemail first. 

_"Steve, hey, look I read the note and I know you’re probably fine, but given the way things went last time, please just text to check in? 12 more hours and we’re sending a search and rescue."_

Steve looks at the time stamp on the voicemail. Four hours ago. Okay.

He looks over the texts and they are all some variation on “just checking in, let me know what's up when you can.” 

Steve glances back at Tony’s sleeping form. Guess it’s time to get back to reality. He texts Sam, who responds almost immediately.

Steve>> Sorry, I know I’ve been unresponsive. Tony and I have covered a lot of ground, and we have a plan in place to bring everyone home.

Sam>> Hey I’ve been worried ... Whoa that’s great! FYI I didn’t tell the team where you went. I know you said it was up to me, but I think all of this is gonna be better coming from you.

Steve>> I understand, thanks for having my back.

Sam>> Always. We really coming home? What about Ross?

Steve>> Tony has a plan, its good. Great even. I’ll have a full debrief for the team in a few days. I… ~~really regret what happened with him, and that I dragged all of you into it. I can't even begin to tell you what's happened, how much my eyes have been opened. I’m not saying everything I did or why I did it was wrong, but, yeah I~~ think this was definitetly the right call.

Sam>> Wow man, can’t wait to hear about it. Clint and Scott will be relieved too. Pretty sure being away from their kids is getting to them, heard the other day Scott mention he would consider a plea deal if he could get house arrest or something… 

Steve’s heart lurches. He knew, in an abstract way this was hard on them especially. But he feels like a total asshole for not thinking more about their kids. He knows they chose to follow him, chose to stand by him despite the consequences. But that actually makes it worse. 

Suddenly he knows he can’t in good conscience spend another day with Tony in the Penthouse. The team needs him. 

Steve>> Stopping off to see Buck. Should be back within 48 hours. 

Sam>> I’ll let the team know, see you soon.

* * *

Steve gently kisses Tony awake. He can’t believe this will be the last time he gets to do that… not the last time, but the last for some indeterminant amount of time. 

Tony shifts, warm and pliant. He opens his eyes, looks at Steve, and his face drops.

“Why are you wearing clothes?” 

Pink tinges Steve’s cheeks as he considers that he and Tony have been buck naked for over 48 hours. It actually felt odd to pull his clothes back on his body, restrictive, like shackles. 

“I got some messages from Sam. On my phone... which I basically ignored for two days” Steve rubs the back of his neck, embarrassed. He and Tony have accomplished a lot in the past two days, but they’ve also been going at it like bunnies. It feels a bit like he’s been skipping school. 

Tony sighs. “So I guess you’re heading back a little sooner than we thought?” His voice is careful, even.

It’s like Steve is waking from one of his dreams. Everything is harsh and cold compared to the surreal heat of the last two days.

“I don’t _want_ to. God, all I want is to stay here with you.”

Tony softens at that, sitting up to wrap his arms around Steve. “But you have a Winter Soldier and Rogues to tend to.” 

Steve rolls his eyes, “I don’t really like either of those terms.”

Tony huffs, “Fine, you’ve got a Bucky Bear and the independent-label Avengers to deal with?”

Steve turns to kiss Tony again, how many can he get in before he has to leave, he wonders? “Better.”

He stands and holds out a hand to Tony. “Sam made me realize even a day or two is vital at this point. Are you up for one more shower? I looked and there’s a flight out to the airport closest to Wakanda at midnight. I can make it if I leave in an hour.” 

It's Tony's turn to roll his eyes, “Steve, Stevie, my all-America cherub, if you’ve learned anything about me over the last couple of days, I hope it’s that I will never, ever turn down a shower with you. And secondly, you’re insane if you think you’re _flying commercial_ all the way to Wakanda, and then on to your super-secret base of operations that I totally know the location of.”

“Tony…”

“Nope! Reunification means perks, more specifically billionaire philanthropist perks, which means you can use one of my four, yes four, private planes. They fly themselves and are untraceable. I’ll put the app on your new phone to fly it. It’s easy, even a beautiful relic like you can do it.”

“My… new phone?”

Tony is already typing something away on his Stark Pad, probably… calling (?) the plane. 

“Yep, I had Friday order one and it should be waiting for you in the penthouse’s delivery box. You and me are going to need to be in constant contact, sending files, reviewing strategy, exchanging dick pics. I’d give you a Stark Pad but I know you ‘don’t see the point because it’s just a bigger, harder to hold smart phone.’” 

Steve is hung up for a moment on the “dick pics” part, before he thinks about Tony’s last sentence. He’s pretty sure he said something like that more than three years ago after he moved into the tower when Tony was making an effort to drag him into using 21st century technology. 

God, this man. He doesn’t want to leave.

Of course Tony is automatically trying to make everything better and easier for him. He always did that, just housed the team, fed the team, provided them with anything they ever needed. And they all just took it, like it was expected. Steve is going to be sure things are different moving forward. 

“I’d try to protest, but I get the sense resistance is futile.” says Steve.

Tony’s eyes dart up and narrow as he continues to tap on the pad “Um, who had you watch Star Trek? Did they even show you The Original Series?? Oh my god Steve, promise me you won’t watch any more sci-fi until I can be there to properly supervise.” 

“I promise. So… if I’m not catching that flight, we probably have a little more time in the shower?” 

Tony throws the pad down on the bed and manages to beat Steve to the shower again, even though he knows the way this time. 

* * *

  
  


**_Six Months Later_ **

Sam and Steve are just finishing their run in Central Park when it happens. Tony is there in workout clothes too, his nano chest attachment gleaming in the sun. Rather than join the run, he’s been sitting on a bench in partial shade eating an ice cream cone typing on a Stark Pad, glancing up as they pass by to appreciate Steve’s form. 

He’s also bought two post-run PowerAids from the nearest cart, so he’s pretty sure he’s pulling his weight even though he's not like, actually running. 

Steve and Sam have finished up and are just deciding who gets the blue one and who gets the red one (Sam – “You always get the red!” Steve – “It’s not my fault Tony insists on getting one red and one blue sports drink every time. He just likes to watch us fight, and my body burns more energy than yours…”), when a portal surrounded by golden sparks opens up right in front of them. 

Out steps what Tony can only mentally classify as an Asian-fusion dandy… 

“Tony Stark? Steven Rogers? I’m Doctor Stephen Strange, and I need you to come with us. It’s not over-selling it to say the fate of the universe is at stake.”

Steve steps forward, poweraid forgotten “Who is us?” (Sam mumbles, “Uh yeah I’m here to, third Avenger, right here… don’t address me though portal-guy, that’s cool…”).

Bruce steps out from behind the mystery doctor and suddenly they’re off. Dr. Weird whisks them off to the “New York Sanctum” and lays it all out.

Infinity stones. Thanos. The end of all things (or at least half of them). 

The three of them sit, shell-shocked. 

Tony speaks first “Okay, so, this is it. The big bad, bigger than anything we've seen before. How do we stop him? What’s our timeline?”

Bruce chimes in now, and he’s _scared,_ which puts Tony back on his heels. 

Steve pulls out his phone, “We need to assemble. Everyone.” 

Wong and Dr. Strange step forward. “Who do you need, we can use our sling rings to go get them.”

Tony, Steve and Sam stare blankly.

Dr. Strange sighs, “The sparkly portals, we can use these rings to create them” he’s speaking slowly as if to children, “Tell us who you need and we can gather the rest of your team.” 

Just then there’s a tremor. Screams and chaos echo into the sanctum from outside on the street.

Steve begins to move, “No time now, Tony, Bruce, Strange, come with me. Sam, get in the air and report back what you see, help any civilians as you can. Wong, can you stay here and standby? If possible, we’ll want to use those rings to get more of the team on the ground once we know what we’re dealing with.”

He’s already almost outside, no one has had a chance to confirm that’s the plan, but it is now. 

A blue beam of light delivers their opponents from what looks like a giant donut of a spaceship.

"Hear me, and rejoice... you are about to die at the hands of the children of Thanos. Be thankfu-"

Tony interrupts, "I'm sorry, Earth is closed today. You'd better pack it up and get out of here. Get lost, Squidward!"

Bruce tries to transform but he can't. 

"Dude, you're embarrassing me in front of the wizards." says Tony as Strange moves Bruce to safety with one of his admitedly handy portals.

Steve, Tony and Dr. Strange are almost a match for the two dour-looking aliens (Falcon is doing damage control with civilians).

Just as they gain the advantage however, a building begins to collapse, and Steve and Tony are tied up getting people out of the way and reinforcing the structural integrity so it doesn’t cause massive loss of life.

“Squidward” flys away with Dr. Strange, but Tony is able to snag Steve once the building is stable and fly him up to the now airborne donut.

“Sam,” Steve says into their communicators before they’re out of range, “Fly back to the sanctum with Bruce, assemble the team with Wong, I’m betting Wong and Strange will be able to communicate even if we are in space. We’ll be in touch.”

"Be safe, Cap. We'll be-" says Sam. He breaks up as they enter the upper atmosphere.

God they’re going to space. They’re already _in_ space. 

And it looks like that kid Peter Tony’s been mentoring has somehow tagged along…

* * *

They manage to eject Squidward and pilot the ship to Titan. Steve backs Tony’s play to meet Thanos on his own turf. New York has been a battle ground enough times in recent years. With all of them working together, Steve is hopeful they can stop Thanos here, now, before he gets any more stones. 

Once they land they’re ambushed by a rag-tag team of aliens (though, turns out their leader Quill is half human). It’s a bit like looking at a bizarre fun-house version of themselves, but Steve is glad to have the extra help. Quill and Tony vie for planning rights, but Steve is pretty sure that even with their current roster, they’ll be outgunned by the power stone.

“Dr. Strange, can you sling-ring back to Earth from here? Is it possible to gather more of the team onto this planet?”

But he doesn’t answer. He appears to be having some sort of fit, his head is moving so fast Steve can't fully track his movements. 

“Excuse me,” says the pretty bug alien, “but does your friend often _do that_?”

Strange jolts out of it. “I’ve looked forward in time, to review alternate futures. To see all the possible outcomes of the coming conflict.”  
  
Quill asks, “How many did you see?”  
  
“Roughly, fourteen million.”

Tony swallows. “How many did we win?”

Dr. Strange looks serious, but hopeful. “Over 53,000.”

Tony’s brow relaxes. “Okay, not the greatest odds, but I’d still bet on us. Is there a best course of action? One that has the best outcome?”

“Yes,” says Strange, “We need to get your red witch, the shrinking man and anyone else we can here _now_. With their help we can defeat Thanos with relative ease.”

“And if we can’t get them? What are our chances with just the group we have now?” asks Steve.

Strange responds, “there are still almost 20 outcomes where we win, but they aren’t pretty. So, I need a clear picture in my mind of where to go, do any of you know where the witch or the shrinking man are right now?”

Tony steps forward, “Okay so first of all, her name is Wanda, and she’s probably not keen on being called a witch? But yeah she should be at the compound with Vision and Black Widow. Scott, aka Ant Man, aka the Shrinking Man, is probably at home sitting down to breakfast with his kid. I can easily pull up satellite images for both locations for you to get a visual.” 

Strange does the eyeroll he seems so fond of.

“’Witch’ is just a term that you people can understand that describes what she is and her power, which is _magic._ And I can see she has almost no training, by the way. What she does shouldn’t be possible, she just, exudes raw power. Once this is over I will take her on as a student.” 

He says it like it’s a foregone conclusion, and maybe it is in all those of futures he’s seen. 

“One more thing, we cannot, under any circumstances, bring the one you call Vision here. He has the mind stone, and if Thanos gets ahold of that, our odds go down insurmountably.”

Steve nodes and calls the play. 

“Tony, you and Dr. Strange go get Wanda and Scott. If we’re lucky Sam has already worked with Wong to get them to the sanctum. Dr. Strange, while you’re there explain the plan to them in full. Tony, blast the plan to the rest of the team on all channels, make sure everyone knows Vision needs to be kept in containment. Maybe T'Challa would be willing to protect him in Wakanda? War machine and anyone else we can spare should stay with him in case Thanos' army makes a separate play for the mind stone.”

Dr. Strange nods, as if he’s already heard this speech before. And he probably has, in about 53,000 variations. “I may be able to mask the mind stone with a spell that will make it undetectable to Thanos, at least for a time.”

Tony raises an eyebrow “Is that the same “spell” you were using to hide that green ring-pop around your neck? Cause they just found you pretty easily.”

Dr. Strange gives him a withering look and says only, “No.” 

“Oh my _god_ , ring pops!” says Quill. “I almost forgot those were a thing. Drax, when we finish with Thanos we should swing by Terra and get some Earth candy. I hope they still have pop rocks!”

“I do not want ‘e _arth_ candy,’ it is stupid to try and make dirt taste sweet and make candy from it.” says Drax. 

“I cannot wait for Gamora to try a Blow Pop!” says Quill. His voice fading into the distance as Tony and Dr. Strange prepare to depart through the portal he’s opened back to New York.

Steve grabs the armor just before he goes through, and gives Tony a quick, dirty kiss. “Be careful.” 

“You too.” And they’re gone. 

* * *

**One Hour Later**

Tony and Strange bring Nat, Wanda, Scott and T’Challa through the portal with just enough time to go over the game plan one more time.

Tony hands Steve his shield. A month ago Tony outfitted everyone on the team with their own compact canister filled with nanobots. It allows them all to keep their most vital gear on-hand easily in something the size of a lipstick tube. As a result Steve and Falcon had been able to instantly don their gear, but the Shield is one-of-a-kind and not something Steve can just carry around. He gives Tony a greatful smile for remembering it in what must have been a chaotic scramble.

Thanos arrives, casually walking in through a cloudy grey portal.

Dr. Strange lures him in, they discuss the Titan that was. Thanos' home world. The genesis of his whole mad plan, to wipe out half the universe. 

"With all six stones, I could snap my fingers and they would all cease to exist. I call that, mercy." 

"And then what?" Asks Strange.

"I could finally rest. And watch the sun rise on a greatful universe. The hardest choices require the strongest wills."

"I think you'll find _our_ will, equal to yours." Strange responds, golden spells activating.

"Our?" questions Thanos.

And then Tony drops a huge chunk of spaceship directly down on top of him.

Almost immediately Thanos gets a few amazing shots off, one of which sends Steve flying (later he would reflect that if Tony hadn't gotten him his shield, he most likely wouldn't have been able to withstand the blow).

Tony comes back at him in retaliation with everything he has, his nanoparticles turning his entire lower half into a battering ram. “Hands off the merchandise, Frankenberry. He’s mine!” 

All of them work together as one to immobilize Thanos.

Peter shoots webs, Quill shoots guns, Drax stabs, Mantis drops out of one of Strange's portals directly above to grab Thanos' head and make him groggy. Nebula shows up and attacks him with the pent-up rage stored from of a lifetime of abuse. 

Scott turns into Gi-ant Man and mainly serves as the split-second distraction they need to get the upper-hand.

Tony actually draws blood, while Widow, Steve, Black Panther and Wanda hold him in place, managing one limb each. They have him splayed out like he’s on a saint Andrew’s cross.

Wanda’s magic keeps the hand with the stones pulled away from Thanos’ body as Dr. Strange deftly uses a portal to slice the gauntleted arm off at the bicep. The portal closes as the dismembered arm lands back in the New York sanctum where Wong quickly casts a series of cloaking and protective spells.

The whole thing takes less than five minutes. 

Thanos, delirious from pain and shock at his defeat simply slumps over, bound by Wanda’s magic and the entire remaining contents of Peter’s web shooters. 

Mantis places her hand on his head once more.

"He mourns." she says.

Quill interrogates him about Gamora with the help of Nebula and Mantis.

Nebula gasps in understanding. "He took her to Vormir, he came back with the stone... and without Gamora."

He quietly confesses. "I had to..." Thanos looks truly bereft, saying “And now it was for _nothing_.” 

Steve shakes his head in disgust, "He killed his own daughter..."

He puts a hand on Tony’s armored shoulder. Needing to feel him there, to be sure they really made it through. 

Tony retracts the helmet and covers Steve’s hand with his own, giving Steve a determined look. 

He knows it’s not over yet. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter will be up soon. Thank you to everyone who has read/kudos'd/commented! 
> 
> I'm hoping the tone/style of these last two chapters isn't too jarring. Since we are covering a lot of plot/time from the Infinity War and Endgame movies, I scrimped a bit on exposition since we are all (hopefully) pretty familiar with those!
> 
> This chapter roughly brought us through Infinity War, the next will cover Endgame, sort of.


	11. A New Endgame & Epilogues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end is here!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... Or is it? See end note about this expanding into a series.

**_An Hour After That_**

They return to Earth through Strange’s portal, where Wong updates them. 

"We were able to sequester Vision in Wakanda. Their advanced cloaking and shield technology makes it the ideal place for him and the stones until we can figure out what to do."

Wong eyes the slumped form of Thanos. "We may also have something to restrain him in the archives. You must be getting tried, no?"

His question is aimed at Wanda who is still restraining Thanos with her magic. She shrugs "I don't often get tired."

They portal to Wakanda to take stock, only to find that Thanos' army is assembling and beginning to test the massive forcefield that protects it.

The entire team is there, plus the Guardians, Nebula, Strange, Wong and Bucky. T'Challa and his senior guard round out the group surrounding Thanos, a righteous judgement council.

They begin what is sure to be a heated debate about what is to be done with Thanos (who is now held motionless by some ancient contraption Wong provided, head bowed) when Thor drops from the sky with blinding speed and hits him square in the chest with a huge axe. 

“I told you, you’d die for that.” He sneers, pushing the axe deeper and then ripping it from his chest. Thanos' purple blood spraying across the Wakadan landscape.

Nebula makes an aborted gesture with her arm, and then lets it fall.

“Welp, there goes our only leverage that might have kept Thanos’ army from attacking Earth” quips Tony, though it's edged with true aggravation. 

"I don't care what it cost!" yells Thor. "He took _everything_. My planet, gone. My people, gone. Heimdall, gone. Loki, gone... just when he'd proved himself a true brother."

Steve notices for the first time a small moving tree next to Thor, and an even smaller racoon. The racoon rests a small hand on Thor's knee as he lets the hammer-axe fall loose in his grip. 

Jesus. One day, maybe not for a while, Tony thinks, Thor may need to spend some time in B.A.R.F. 

"Okay, so Thanos is... Managed." hedges Tony. "What about the army outside? Or hell, the whole mess of beings that are probably gonna come after the stones next?" Tony questions the group, arms raised.

"Strange? Did you see how to resolve all that in one of your time jumps?"

**_Two Hours After That_ **

Under Strange’s recommendation, Vision is immediately brought to Wakanda's science division to get the stone removed. Shuri and Tony have an emergency science jam session. Together they ensure Vision is fully functional without the stone, and Tony creates a new gauntlet to hold the stones. Suri has some pretty incredible suggestions that should divert a decent amount of the harmful power of the stones from the wearer, and Nebula shows Tony a type of cold fusion welding he’s never seen before.

“You know Shuri, Nebula," says Tony, "when ah, the fate of the universe isn’t at stake we should get together again. I throw a mean slumber party. We could do science. Ask Bruce, I give great science.”

Shuri and Nebula don’t say no, primarily because they have no idea what he’s talking about. 

Steve interrupts any further social planning, “Tony, they’ve almost breeched the forcefield, where are we at?”

“We’re ready to rock, sugarplum.” Nebula and Shuri trade another glance. "So, who is trying this thing on?" Tony asks.

It isn’t up for debate. Thor insists on wielding the infinity gauntlet, and Strange doesn’t offer up an alternative. 

Although nobody is fighting Thor, he pleads his case. “Who else, here, has the power of a god? Who else has lost so much? I am alive, because fate wants me alive. If I am to die after 1,500 years, then let it be in the service of my people, my family, my friends.”

Rocket coughs, his eyes slightly wet. “Well, I don’t see how anyone can say no to that.”

Tony, who can’t seem to help himself asks “Is anyone going to address that there’s a talking Build-a-Bear? No, just me?”

Thor steps forward. 

He slides the gauntlet on and gasps. Sparking lines of power emanate from the stones, through the glove and up his arm. He drops to his knees.

“Thor, are you okay?” Steve asks.

“I’m, I am fine.” he says, “Stay back. This is my task.” He pants heavily, and pulls his arm up to the heavens. 

_Asgard, restored. Thanos’ true believers and armies destroyed. My people restored. The stones to vanish from existence._

He snaps his fingers, and promptly passes out. 

* * *

Incredibly, it works.

The stones are gone, Thanos’ armies are turned to dust before their eyes, and Thor’s people are alive (though for whatever reason Asgard itself could not come back). 

The strain is too much for even Thor’s divine body, however. 

Even with the most advanced medical tech on the planet, he ends up losing the arm.

**_One Month After That_ **

Tony makes both Bucky and Thor new arms. Many jokes are made about them being the one-arm-wonder-twins. Bucky tries to insist that the arm he got in Wakanda is fine, great even. Tony won’t hear of it, and after Steve tells him to just go with it, he acquiesces.

Bucky’s arm is a standard chrome design, because Tony figures at this point Bucky must hate change. For Thor Tony creates an agile, adaptive design that can change color and texture. He knows the Godking secretly likes pomp and circumstance. Thor spends a pleasant afternoon changing his arm’s look on a whim from a realistic flesh-color holographic overlay, to a brilliant gold color, to a shimmering rainbow sheen which according to Thor “indeed could have been mistaken for a dim imitation of the Bifrost.” 

Thor relinquishes the rule/establishment of New Asgard to Valkyrie, and joins the Guardians of the Galaxy. 

On his first night aboard the Benatar, Rocket immediately steals Thor’s arm while he is asleep. 

“Rabbit! Why have you absconded with my arm?”

“Relax, relax, I was just upgrading it” says Rocket. 

Thor examines the arm and sees he added a retractable sight-laser, and a special grip on the shoulder that is just the right size for Rocket’s hands. “Yes,” Thor says, strangely moved that Rocket wants to ride with him during their many forthcoming adventures, “this will do nicely.”

Rocket also makes Quill a matching arm laser attachment that can slip on his arm over his coat. Quills been feeling pretty sensitive about the whole ‘Thor joining them’ thing. In fact, he makes Quill’s even more accurate, with a faster retraction and longer range (or so he tells him).

It seems to take his mind off of Gamora, if only for a moment. 

* * *

Tony invites Shuri and Nebula to the compound for that sleepover. They do science, and eat ice cream and wear avocado honey face masks (Nebula – “Terran customs are disgusting”). They snuggle in to watch a movie (Tony picked Clueless, thinking it might help both Shuri – who grew up in Wakanda, and Nebula – who grew up being tortured by a megalomaniac, familiarize themselves with some basic American Earth culture. Plus the guy that plays Josh looks _exactly_ like Scott).

As Nebula settles into the sofa, she cringes.

“Are you alright?” asks Shuri.

Nebula stiffens. “I’m fine. My body… there’s usually one thing or another that hurts. It’s fine. I haven’t had time to conduct repairs in a while.”

Tony pauses the opening scene. “You know Nebula, it’s almost always part of a traditional Earth sleepover to take care of bodily repairs and upgrades.”

Nebula looks at Shuri for confirmation. Shuri shrugs, but when Tony catches her eye, nods in agreement. “Ah yes, I have heard of that. It is… an essential part of the bonding process. Upgrades, of course.”

That’s how they all end up in Tony’s workshop, adapting pieces of the armor and Tony’s nano tech to repair as much of the damage they can. Thanos inflicted untold horrors on Nebula's body over the years; turns out Shuri was right, repairing her is a crutial step to the bonding process.

When it’s over, Nebula stretches in wonder. “There’s… no pain.”

“That’s right blueberry,” says Tony, “You’re not going to have to live with that anymore.”

“Don’t call me blueberry.” scoffs Nebula, voice low and threatening.

“You don’t even _know what a blueberry is_.” Tony shoots back.

“It’s obviously a type of Terran berry, that is blue.” Nebula rasps. “Because I have blue skin. You’re not clever, Stark.”

“Clever enough to fix you!” Tony volleys. Besides, it’s not _just_ that Nebula is blue, she’s also bald, which makes her head look exactly, _exactly_ like a blueberry. 

“You hardly fixed anything; Shuri did most of it.” Nebula deadpans. 

“Sure, whatever you say, Ne- _blue_ -la.” _Checkmate_ , thinks Tony. Shuri stifles a startled laugh. 

“I hate you.” Nebula replies. 

Nebula doesn’t hate him. After the loss of Gamora she is quite adrift, and is comforted by these strange, annoying, soft, _pathetic, wonderful_ beings. 

But she _will_ stab Tony if he calls her “Blueberry” again. 

**_A Year After That_ **

Pepper invites Steve and Tony over to her mid-town apartment for dinner. Which is a bit weird; it’s not that they never get together, but usually they end up eating somewhere new in the city because Pepper doesn’t care for cooking.

After the (catered) meal, they’re enjoying pleasant conversation among desert and coffee when Pepper takes a deep breath. “So I know it’s a little unusual for us to have dinner at my place. I actually had something I wanted to ask you two.”

Tony is sure this whole thing has been an attempt to butter The Avengers up to do another calendar with the proceeds going to the Maria Stark Foundation (of which Pepper is the vice chair). The one they did six months ago flew off the shelves, namely because almost every Avenger that graced it’s pages was at _least_ dressed down to their underwear (Natasha was able to wear her usual full-body tactical gear somehow, and Tony was about 40% covered by the nano-armor in mid-application). 

Thor had on nothing but his cloak streaming behind him and Stormbreaker strategically placed in front of him. 

Pepper continues, “As you know I’ve been easing up on my duties as SI CEO for a while. In fact Erin and Jamal are now handling the day-to-day for all our major divisions. And well, when I turned thirty I had some eggs frozen. I wasn’t dating anyone at the time, I was working 90-hour weeks as an assistant for a crazy person…” here she winks at Tony, “and I just figured it would be a while before kids would be something I’d get to.” 

Tony’s eyes slowly ping pong from Pepper, to Steve, back to Pepper. 

“What I’m saying is, at this point in my life I would like to have a child, and when I think of who the perfect person is to do that with… it’s Tony.” 

Steve and Tony sit in shocked silence.

“I know! I know, maybe I’m crazy. And this is in _no way_ related to my past romantic relationship with Tony. At all. You know I love you both, and the two of you… I look at you two, and you’re just… you’re perfect together. But I know kids were something Tony kept in the “maybe” column, and I was thinking that given you two are obviously in it for the long haul, maybe you’d think of this as an opportunity for the two of you as well?”

Tony and Steve continue to sit in silence. Tony, running through the immense gravity of what Pepper is suggesting. Steve, wrapping his head around frozen eggs, modern science, and working out that chances are 99.9% that what Pepper is suggesting will happen in a lab or a hospital, and she’s not suggesting, well, the traditional method. 

Pepper grins uncomfortably. “Okay, I’ll… I’ll leave it there. I know it’s a lot to ask, and a lot to think about. I would want you two to of course discuss it privately, and think about whatever level of involvement you would want post-birth… Just, think about it. I’m not banking on this, there are a ton of highly respected sperm banks in this city, and so if this is a “no” from you I totally understand, I’m okay. Totally.” 

It’s the most Steve has ever heard Pepper say at once outside of a press conference (usually because when they are together both he and Pepper are fighting to get a word in around Tony). 

They go home and talk. 

Steve is actually the one that thinks it’s a great idea first. Tony has been talking about stepping back in the day-to-day Avenging, and so the timing couldn’t be better. Steve has always wanted to be a father, and if in this arrangement he isn’t “dad” he figures he would at least be like… like a stepparent? And the idea of a mini-Tony running around, he just can’t think of anything better. 

Tony is freaked out to say the least, but the more he thinks about it the better it sounds. 

It’s a lock when he wakes in the morning from a hyper-realistic dream where he and Pepper and Steve had an adorable baby, named after Pepper’s eccentric uncle Morgan.

**Another Year After That**

After Morgan is born, things change. 

If Tony was thinking of stepping back from the Avengers before, he goes into semi-retirement. He’s on-hand for their tech needs, or strategy for big picture stuff, but beyond that his days are full developing new advances for SI, taking on a larger role with the Maria Stark Foundation, getting BARF out there to the masses and of course, Morgan. 

He builds Pepper a lake house so that she and Morgan can have privacy, a nice quiet existence away from the city. And also according to Tony so that Morgan can grow up to be “Country Strong,” (whatever that means, Steve can’t seem to get a real answer). He builds a similar home for him and Steve on the adjacent property. 

Tony builds a mini underground transit system between the houses that takes less than one minute. In his initial pitch he said it would just be for emergencies, but soon they are using it like a set of stairs (well, one that can be locked out for privacy on both ends).

They split their time between the house and the compound. They spend long weekends by the lake and have dinner with Pepper at least a couple nights a week. They don’t have a formal custody agreement, but find a pattern that works for all of them. When Steve is away on missions, Tony always stays in their lake house, soaking in as much time with Morgan as he can.

Wanda and Vision occasionally babysit and Tony sees a little gleam in Wanda’s eye. Tony wonders if that’s even possible for them. He may have a talk with Vision, he feels too young to be a grandfather… 

By the end of Morgan’s first year of life, Steve is feeling the pangs of being away from her and Tony so often. After Thanos Clint left the team and Scott went down to occasional/part time participation, with the caveat that if another Thanos-level event happens they’ll be there. Steve doesn’t want to leave the team without a leader, but he longs to follow their lead and spend more than two days in a row out at the lake house with his family.

Carol Danvers flies into their lives like a comet, and Steve sees his chance. 

With a new Captain taking over the team, Steve is able to spend as much time with Tony and Morgan as he wants. He is still on-hand to help train or mentor various team members as they come along, especially Peter, who he and Tony try to see at least once a week. 

Tony throws Peter the most epic high school graduation party ever. Some kid named Flash won’t leave Tony alone until he promises him he will record a tik-tok video with him.

Tony has Friday hack the kid’s phone and blur their faces just to mess with him. 

Bucky takes over the Captain America mantel for a while, then it passes to Sam. Steve volunteers at several veteran organizations and takes an active role in a variety of social justice causes. He snickers in delight as Bucky and Sam answer the call to create new government PSAs. 

When Morgan turns three, Steve invites Pepper over and asks if she has any interest in Morgan having a sibling. Tony is beside himself at the prospect of a child with Steve and Pepper’s combined genetics. He thought nobody could be as perfect as Morgan, but he knows any hypothetical child that has the best of Steve Rogers and Pepper Potts is destined for greatness. 

Their son is born a year later.

  
  


**Some Time After That**

The kids are in bed and so are Tony and Steve. Tony can’t believe they go to bed around 10 pm these days, but that’s always the case when they have the kids. Pepper has been dating someone for the last couple of months, so Steve and Tony are taking the kids more than half the time when the need arises. The jury is still out as far as Tony is concerned, but Steve likes the guy. 

He’s an independently wealthy biochemist who is working on a cure for cancer. Honestly, he reminds Steve a little of Tony (though way more subdued and somewhat less attractive, in Steve’s opinion). 

They languidly trade blowjobs and settle in to go to sleep. Tomorrow Nebula and Bucky are coming over to test out a new shield/force field Tony has been working on.

Tony is about to fall asleep when it happens. Something bothers Tony, every once in a while. A persistent thought he can't shake, usually while he is boneless and close to sleep. He never brings it up with Steve, it feels too terrifying to even name. 

Steve notices of course, but doesn’t press. Tony will come out with it in his own time.

“Steve?”

“Yes, Tony?” Steve reaches out and slings an arm around Tony’s torso. He’s already drifting off but he wants to hear what Tony has to say.

“Sometimes… I want to dig into Strange about the multiverse. The other realities. 53,000 out of 14 million… those odds nag at me. I think about how there must be so many Steves out there that never came to the tower that night, so many Avengers that couldn’t prevent the snap.” 

Steve rubs Tony's arm, brow furrowing.

“I don’t know Tony, I look at what we have, what we’ve built. And any reality like the ones you've described are pretty hard to imagine.” 

“Yeah... I know, they are.” says Tony.

He rolls over and puts it out of his mind. He knows even they can’t solve the problems of the entire multiverse. 

* * *

The next week he meets up with one Reed Richards, who claims to be an expert on the multiverse. Because, well, it never hurts to just look into things… just to see. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Super long end note ahead!:
> 
> So, I didn't mean to pull a Return of the King, but every time I got to a stopping place, there was more I wanted to add! I think I originally planned to end it right after Thanos is defeated.
> 
> Hopefully the re-existance of Morgan is a pleasant surprise (with bonus Steves!baby, name TBD haha). I know this is a lot of fluff, but eh, that was sort of the point of this fic, total wish fulfillment. I really tried to fix as much as I possibly could, but no matter what there just wasn't a way to save Gamora... It's up to the reader if they believe if Thor's wish brought Loki back. I say yes, because Gamora's fate was tied to the soul stone but I'd like to think the infinity stones could bring back someone who just died. Also RIP Thor's arm. My thinking was that since Thor basically made three huge wishes at once, that's why it damaged him so badly. Poor Thor, a fake eye and a fake arm now haha.
> 
> As to the note at the beginning of this chapter: I don't think I'm actually done with this story. This will probably become a series where I do more in this universe since we time-jumped so much at the end. Especially the timeframe where the team is reunited before Thanos shows up... or the time of peace after.
> 
> Some ideas I have floating around in my head:
> 
> \- Tony and Steve reunite after their month+ separation. At first they need to play it cool since the whole team is around.  
> \- Tony and Steve go camping  
> -The team (and Pepper) finds out about their relationship  
> \- Tony teases Nebula more and finds out she has a crush (Captain Marvel? Bucky? Sam? ... Loki? They are both blue, hmm)  
> \- Steve washes Tony's armor as promised ;)  
> \- Steve and Tony break-in the compound shower with one of the level Red settings...  
> \- More blended family fluff with Steve/Tony and the kids, possibly the birth of each.  
> \- Tony+Bucky friendship, possibly with more about Tony upgrading his arm.  
> \- Tony and Rocket have dueling upgrade wars over Thor's arm.
> 
> If anyone has preferences or something else they want to see, I'm open to your thoughts! 
> 
> Thank you again for reading! I wrote and posted almost 35,000 words in like two weeks, which is the most I've ever written at once in such a short timeframe. 
> 
> When this continues as a series I'll probably post once a week on Saturday or Sunday 🙂
> 
> Thanks to PerplexinglyParadoxialPerson who pointed out anyone subscribed to this story would not be notified if it was made a series and updated, so I will post a placeholder chapter once the next part of the series goes up.


	12. Whatever It Takes - The Series!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is now a series! Apparently if you subscribed to this story, that doesn't mean you'll be updated that it is now a series or when the series is updated.
> 
> This chapter is just a heads-up to anyone who wants to follow the series. I'll delete it in a week or so. I'll also happily take suggestions in the comments :)

The first chapter of the second story ([How to Break the News You're Sleeping with Captain America without Even Trying](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24903757/chapters/60262129)) in this series is now up.

It covers the first and second prompts below. I don't know if all of these will turn into parts of the series, but I at least have ideas/outlines for:

\- Tony and Steve reunite after their month+ separation. At first they need to play it cool since the whole team is around.

-The team (and Pepper) finds out about their relationship

\- Tony and Steve go camping

\- Tony teases Nebula more and finds out she has a crush (Captain Marvel? Bucky? Sam? ... Loki? They are both blue, hmm)

\- Steve washes Tony's armor as promised ;)

\- Steve and Tony break-in the compound shower with one of the level Red settings...

\- More Steve/Tony family stuff, including "Steve is nervous to hold baby Morgan, and how he overcomes his fear of his super strength to hold her" (thanks to PerplexinglyParadoxialPerson for the prompt!)

\- Tony+Bucky friendship, possibly with more about Tony upgrading his arm.

\- Tony and Rocket have dueling upgrade wars over Thor's arm.

If anyone has preferences or something else they want to see, let me know. Thank you again for reading!


End file.
